


Footsteps - Rebel Vader

by jairyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Anisoka, F/M, Fulcrum, Personal Growth, Rebellion, Rebels, Star Wars - Freeform, vadful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 70,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jairyn/pseuds/jairyn
Summary: After finding Ahsoka’s lightsaber, Anakin, now Vader, makes the spontaneous decision to abandon his current path. But breaking away from Sidious isn’t as easy as stealing a shuttle and while on the run, he comes face to face with his past, present and future. Somewhere along the way, he has to decide what he stands for and who he stands with.After countless rumors about a rogue imperial agent wreaking havoc all over the galaxy, Ahsoka, now under the codename Fulcrum, convinces the other rebel leaders it might be worth trying to recruit this unknown player. When she finally tracks them down, they’re in for a fight of their lives, and a shock. He has her old lightsaber and he thought she was dead, but now they have to work together to survive. Now that they’re reunited, they both have to decide whether or not they can trust each other again. The future of the galaxy might very well depend on it.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Darth Vader, Ahsoka Tano/Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 583
Kudos: 557





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know, another new story without finishing others. But I write what I'm inspired to write and this has been bugging me from the first moment I got the idea weeks ago. Someone created a Clone Wars version of Vader for Battlefront 2 and they gave him Ahsoka's lightsaber like he picked up at the end of Season 7 and that just sent me spiraling down this rabbit hole of what if that had been enough to turn him from his path and not just continue on as Sidious' puppet? I've written several chapters of this already, though it might start out a bit slow because I really want this to be a story about personal growth for him rather than have yet another story where he only decides to get better just because Ahsoka believes he can.

He scanned the wreckage from a distance, attempting to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. It was his duty to ensure there’d been no survivors, but by the state it was in, how could there be?

He paused outside the shuttle to take a deep breath, ignoring the troops that marched around him and started rummaging through the twisted metal remains of his star destroyer. This was all his fault. She was dead, Rex was dead, Jesse... half the 501st... all because of him. And what did he gain from it?

He tried to tune out the raspy breathing and finally took a step forward. Then another and another. Other than the probe droids floating around recording everything, nobody was paying any attention to him. His task was to confirm that any Jedi aboard this ship had been killed either by the clones or by the crash. They weren’t supposed to leave until they found proof and could cross that name off the list. But of all of them, hers was a name he didn’t want to cross off. 

So, the reason he was here, personally, when he’d been informed of the discovery, was to find a way to cross her name off without the actual proof. In other words, if there was any possible way she could’ve survived this, he wanted to make sure the Empire wasn’t still looking for her and if there wasn’t, he didn’t want to know. All he needed was the tiniest piece of something that could’ve belonged to her and he could tell the rest of the imperials to wrap up and move on. They wouldn’t disobey him; they were too scared.

His feet led him to a ridge piled high with snow, looking towards the middle of the ship. Something silver reflected the light and caught his eye. He kneeled awkwardly in the snow and his hand closed around it. He knew what it was as soon as he touched it. He swallowed the mess of emotions and got back to his feet.

No, it couldn’t be. She _had_ to have survived, he couldn’t handle her death too. But there in his hand was one of her lightsabers. He knew it was hers because he’d tinkered with them for months after she left the order. For just a moment he was grateful that his suit regulated every bodily function because nobody outside would ever know everything that crashed through him inside. They wouldn’t hear his racing heart, his slow painful breaths. They wouldn’t see the tears that welled in his eyes or the way every muscle clenched.

They’d just see him standing there and think nothing of it. Or assume he was doing something they couldn’t see and they knew better than to ask or question him. He swallowed with difficulty and opened his palm. It was obvious the lightsaber had been here in the cold for a long time. There was snow and ice stuck to it. He held it up in front of him and ignited it. It burst to life as though it had just been used yesterday.

He could feel the whisper of Ahsoka all around him as it buzzed in the force as much as the air. Movement caught his eye, and he dropped his arms and looked up. Flying circles above the crash site was some kind of bird. It was too far away to identify exactly which species even when he zoomed in, but something about its appearance instantly captivated him. It felt somehow connected to Ahsoka but he didn’t know why. 

He watched it for awhile as the memories washed through him. He’d been heartbroken and lost when she left the order. With everything that happened in the end there, it hadn’t really occurred to him that she’d be killed too. The order was only supposed to be against Jedi but... 

He shut off her lightsaber and dropped his head. He ruined everything. He thought he was going to save Padmé, to end the war. He thought... the sacrifice was worth it as Sidious kept trying to convince him. But standing here in the echo of this violent crash, seeing that it cost him something else entirely... it suddenly hit home how mistaken he’d been. There might not be a way to undo what he did, but he owed it to Ahsoka to try. Somehow, some way... he was going to make up for his mistakes. 

And he was going to start by turning his back on his lying, deceitful old ‘friend’.

He tucked her lightsaber beneath his cloak and marched back towards the shuttle. He took a quick glance around, satisfied that most of the imperials were preoccupied or not close enough to it. Inside, he swiftly killed the two guards and the pilots and sat down in their place. 

He set the approach for the cruiser waiting above while also calculating a hyperspace jump. The moment it beeped, he veered off from the path and jumped away. He knew it would be no time at all before Sidious was made aware of this, but at least for a moment he could appreciate the temporary freedom.

He had no idea where he could go or what he could do, or even how long he could hide. It had been a spontaneous decision and for awhile, he was going to have to take it moment by moment. The shuttle he was on would be reported missing, and it could be tracked. He jumped to his feet and opened the side panel to disconnect the tracker. On the one hand, having an imperial vessel would make moving about the galaxy a lot easier, on the other, it would be in every database and would be scanned at every port or near any other imperial vessels. And considering how quickly the Empire had spread, that limited his options for where he could go to escape scrutiny.

He paced around trying to come up with some kind of plan. He needed help but didn’t know where to turn. There’d been rumors about rebel uprisings. At first it had been assumed it was civilian pushback as the Empire took over, small and isolated events. But in the past few months, there’d been evidence of a rising influential player that was starting to organize it into a larger scale coalition. Intel thus far had been scarce, but it was believed there was a Jedi behind it. 

There were big names that had yet to be crossed off the list as confirmed kills; Obi Wan of course, he curled his fingers into a fist. Trying to find him would probably be the best course of action but admittedly, he was the last person he wanted to see right now. Even if he’d been right about what he’d done, he couldn’t ignore the burning hatred that spread across his skin as it echoed the wounds of that fight.

He took a deep breath and grabbed Ahsoka’s lightsaber, using it to squash the flood of darkness. Yoda was another that was still missing. But just like with Obi Wan, he wasn’t someone he really wanted to go to. Besides, the prices on both their heads were too high for them to be brazenly opposing the Empire and would probably take far too long to track them down. He couldn’t recall the other high-profile targets at the moment, but he didn’t really feel like any of them could be behind the sudden organization of this budding rebellion. They’d have no reason to trust him even if he knew who they were or how to find them.

That left his options pretty slim. And he knew revealing the truth of who he was to anybody would be a bad idea. The Emperor seemed convinced that Senator Organa could be somehow connected to the rebel activity but despite countless investigations they’d never come up with definitive proof he was. Which meant showing up on Alderaan and asking for help likely wouldn’t do either of them any favors. 

With the realization that he didn’t really have anywhere to turn or anyone to turn to, he was starting to think he’d been too impulsive in turning away from his new position within the empire. Maybe it would’ve been better to fight it from the inside. Maybe if he went back now, Sidious would forgive him, and they’d resume as normal.

His hands shook on her lightsaber and he dropped his head. Ahsoka had walked away before. She’d walked away from everything she’d ever known and now that he was faced with that scenario as well, he had no idea how she had managed it. The fear trickled in, making him question every action and choice. Making him want to run back to what was known, even if it was terrible. He really never gave her credit for the strength it took to do what she did. He’d been so consumed by missing her, he really hadn’t had a clue. What had made walking away into the unknown alone, less scary than staying?

He tried to calm the fears that flooded through him, using his connection to her lightsaber to soothe him. It was hers, but in some ways, it was his too. He’d spent so long tinkering on them after her departure, he’d imbued himself in them as well. It wasn’t normal what he’d done, but he hadn’t been able to help it. He reached for his other lightsaber; the replacement one Sidious had sent him off to find after Obi Wan took his old one. He held it next to hers and studied them side by side. 

His was a similar design of his original, modified to better fit and move with his current condition. He’d had to take a lot of the weight out and rebalance it so he could swing it with less effort. Hers was definitely heavier, but longer and thinner in diameter. He liked the way it felt, but maybe that was just the connection it gave him to her. He ignited them both, his red blade was longer because of his height, but that was adjustable. As he stared at them both, he had this thought, maybe it was stupid, but... if he was truly going to break away from the Emperor, red was not the right color for him.

He shut off his and dropped it, ignoring the way it rolled away. He adjusted the length of her blade and twirled it around. Then he shut it off and put his focus on cleaning the hilt and polishing it up. From here on out, he would use hers. Just like she’d been his compass when she’d stood by his side, he’d keep her lightsaber close now, as a reminder of what he was fighting for. He only wished he’d realized what he had sooner. 

Working on her lightsaber had distracted him for awhile, but at some point, he’d become aware that his breaths were getting shorter and more shallow. At first, he tried to ignore it, assuming it was just the fear creeping back in. But it was getting increasingly worse and the pressure inside felt like it was building. 

He pressed the buttons on his suit, checking to see if something was malfunctioning. None of the indicators were going off and yet he could tell things weren’t working properly. It wasn’t dispensing the right amount of air. It felt like his lungs were no longer filling, like his airways were collapsing. The unnaturally regulated heartbeat wasn’t regulating it anymore and it was beating wildly out of control in arrhythmic beats. 

He started stumbling around the shuttle, looking for the signs for the first aid or medkit. Or better yet a doctor droid or something. His arms were shaking, and his legs felt weak like they couldn’t hold him up anymore. He started feeling lightheaded, like at any minute he’d pass out. He dragged himself, maybe even half crawled towards the hope of help and barely managed to turn on the droid before he collapsed onto the floor. 

It was taking all his strength and will to push through, to stay conscious as he removed his helmet. The doctor droid swiftly placed an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, sealing it around his skin. He sat there slumped against the wall for a bit, his head still spinning, his thoughts all jumbled. What had happened to his suit? Why had it suddenly malfunctioned? Was it some kind of failsafe Sidious put into it? So that if he ever tried to run away, he’d kill him?

His heart pounded in his chest at how close he’d come to death. As the haze cleared and oxygen returned to his brain, suddenly he had no doubts this wasn’t a coincidence. He’d noticed the physical restraints in the suit early on, but he’d never have imagined his friend would just deactivate it if he disobeyed. Though with what he’d learned of the Sith since joining the dark side, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. 

_The joke is on you, old man_ , he thought as he picked up the helmet and turned it over in his hands. He hadn’t been desperate enough before to tinker with his suit, his situation too precarious. But now that he knew he couldn’t depend on who he’d thought was a friend, he had nothing left to lose. The first order of business would be finding a way to jury rig it so it continued to function without Sidious’ control. Which meant... he needed parts. And the only place he knew of to find plenty of parts, was Tatooine. And he really didn’t want to go back there. 

But at least, he could throw his weight around with any junk shop dealers. Stormtroopers wouldn’t be patrolling every street. There wouldn’t be an imperial blockade around the planet and even with the multitude of bounty hunters that might notice him, he didn’t have any qualms with taking them down or them reporting his presence to the Emperor because he couldn’t care if they destroyed that miserable planet looking for him. If all went well, he’d be long gone before they showed up. 

Before he could go to Tatooine however, he had to find a temporary fix for his malfunctioning suit. Wandering around with an oxygen mask wasn’t possible, nor would he want anybody to see him as an invalid. All intimidation methods would go out the window then. 

Once the doctor droid managed to stabilize him, he pried open the control panel, trying to figure out what exactly needed to be fixed. The run of electronics were complex but based on the knowledge he’d gathered over the years, he could figure out what wires went to what. He really wished though, that he had someone here to help him. Since that wasn’t really possible, he’d have to find a way to do it on his own. 

The droid grumbled about being told to do things that weren’t part of his medical duty so much that he finally shut him off. At least with the oxygen mask, he had a temporary way to move about on his own. Though after several hours of dragging the tank around the shuttle looking for parts, he was getting frustrated by his situation. _This was stupid, outrageous!_ He was supposed to be powerful and yet here he was, tethered to an air tank with a malfunctioning suit in the middle of who knew where, trying not to die after running away.

He felt pathetic. And if anybody were with him, they’d probably think that too. He dragged himself to the cockpit and slumped in the seat. This was going to take more effort and more parts than what was available to him here. Or worse yet, he needed parts from important systems of the shuttle. Things that would make it not be able to fly. 

He started recalculating his hyperspace jump to head towards Tatooine. He pulled out, allowed it to finish the calculation, turned the ship and jumped again. He was trying desperately not to dwell on the doubts about what he was doing, but as the stars sped past him, he was starting to feel the true weight and emptiness of the path that now laid before him. He’d never been brave enough before to branch out on his own. As much as he disagreed with the Jedi council and their methods, he’d never been able or willing to walk away.

Ahsoka leaving was the first time it seriously crossed his mind to abandon the order. His whole being was pulled after her like he should have been two steps behind her. But his sense of duty, his fear, his shame... it had kept him rooted to the spot. Even when he turned on them, there was a future waiting for him, at least he’d thought there would be. He thought he’d save his wife, they’d have their kid, they’d have security, the war would end, life would go on. 

But everything he’d sacrificed to ensure that, he’d lost and still gained nothing. Even if he could find Obi Wan, he doubted reconciliation was possible now. He’d effectively destroyed the order and many of the straggling survivors, so there was no going back to that either. And no one to build a new one with. Padmé had died anyways, the baby with her. The clones had aged out of usefulness and were either killed or sent away for menial imperial tasks to waste away. His only other friend was gone too.

He pulled out her lightsaber and played with it absentmindedly. How could he have been so stupid? He’d had everything and even in that frustration, he’d been far better off than he was now. Now he was nothing. Broken, shattered, dying. “You don’t have to say it, Snips,” he muttered out loud. Wherever she was in the force, he hoped she’d hear him. “I let everybody down. Everything I was trying to do only made everything worse.” He was silent for a moment. “Yes, I know I’m an idiot.”

He leaned forward and checked the computer again. There was at least another day and a half worth of traveling before he made it to Tatooine, but at least the shuttle had enough fuel. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do to pass the time. He was exhausted now though, from the stress and adrenaline of running away, and the near-death experience that had nearly destroyed all chance he’d make it. 

Scared to sleep alone though, he lugged the oxygen tank back to the med room and turned the doctor droid back on before collapsing onto the bed. Even if there was nothing the droid could do for him, at least it could monitor his vitals while he slept and make sure he didn’t run out of air. Laying down in this condition wasn’t comfortable at all, but without a bacta tank, it was his only choice to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

He sat up in a panic, ignoring the grating voice of the droid telling him to calm down. He should have known the nightmares would be worse now, but he’d been so tired he’d just wanted to sleep. He was surprised to learn though, that he’d been out for seven hours, rarely did he ever get that much sleep in a row. He rubbed his gloved hand over the top of his head and tried to calm his racing heart.

He could’ve sworn he’d been in that crash that had killed Ahsoka. Felt the fear and confusion. The violence of a ship full of people you’d once trusted turning on you. Why hadn’t he thought about that? Why had he let Sidious convince him to lead the clones against their freewill? Why did he not even think about the pure terror that would create? 

He sighed and dropped his head. Because all he’d been thinking about was himself. His fear of losing Padmé had strangled all other thoughts. He’d been so desperate he hadn’t really thought about anything. Tears welled in his eyes and he tried to wipe them away. For over a year he’d been able to convince himself that despite the outcome, he’d done what was necessary. The master he’d pledged his life to had helped groom him to believe that. But now that he was faced with Ahsoka’s experience of it, none of the lies he’d been told excused it. And it was also making it hard to imagine how he was supposed to fix this. _If_ that was even possible now.

Fixing it wouldn’t bring anybody back. It wouldn’t fill the chasms inside him. He wasn’t even sure if it would honor the lives that had been destroyed by his choices. He just couldn’t keep going down that path pretending he’d done the right thing when every piece he had left screamed he hadn’t. Was stopping the Empire even what was best for the galaxy?

He used to think order was exactly what was needed but order only made life better for _some_ people. He didn’t know and trying to figure it out was just giving him a headache. He didn’t even know what side he was on. All he wanted was to not be Sidious’ puppet anymore. But did that mean he fully opposed the Empire? Not really... he still felt like it was better than the constant war. Order and structure was far better than chaos. 

The only thing he did know for sure was that they’d try to stop him or catch him no matter where he went, and he would not let them take him back to Sidious. So, if that meant fighting them, then he would. It wasn’t like they didn’t have endless numbers. People had come out of the woodwork to support and enlist in this new army. And the only thing that bothered him about that, was if it had been that easy to build an army, why had the Jedi and the clones been left out to die?

Well he supposed the answer to the Jedi was obvious, Sidious wanted them out of the way. But the clones, _oh right_... he’d been one of very few that actually saw them as people. He kept forgetting that the majority saw them as little more than droids. So of course they didn’t feel the need to aid them even at the cost of the crumbling republic. 

He swung his heavy feet over the side of the bed and waited for his breathing to regulate again. Moving the weight of this suit and the mechanical limbs was a lot harder now that his body wasn’t being artificially supported. Once he caught his breath, he picked up the heavy tank and walked slowly towards the cockpit to make sure nothing had disrupted their course or there were no other problems. It was not usually good practice to leave a ship flying through hyperspace unattended for very long. Any number of problems could crop up. But since he was alone now and the doctor droid didn’t have piloting programming, he didn’t have much choice. 

He ignored the flashing light that indicated there were messages. He didn’t really care to know or hear the threats. He checked the nav computer and everything still seemed to be on course. He ran a systems scan to see if there was anything else to worry about but it seemed all he needed to do was find a way to get his suit working without the heavy oxygen tank he had to tote around.

He headed back to a work bench near the tools in the cargo area. He pulled off the control panel again, taking care not to unplug anything. Then he sighed and unhooked his cape and took off his shoulder guards and unhooked his belt. Once he was able to get his inner robe untangled and off, he undid the straps that held the panel to his chest so he could pull it further from the vest and actually be able to look at it. 

He hovered over the various devices trying to mentally map out how they worked together so he could figure out what part or parts had been remotely turned off. He could feel the darkness whirling around it and knew Sidious must have used Sith magic on it too. He hadn’t completed enough of his training in the dark side to learn how to undo that. As far as he was concerned, the only way to fully get rid of restraints was to rebuild a new system. Something he hoped to be able to do once on Tatooine.

It wasn’t long before he had the whole thing in as many pieces as possible while still a connected system. This was a lot harder to do while attached to him. What if he sparked too much? Or shorted something else? The wires were live even if some weren’t working right and he couldn’t just turn them off while doing the repairs. While the oxygen tank allowed him to get enough air, his lungs weren’t the only part of him badly damaged by the lava fire.

His heart was messed up too. “Yes, I realize how funny that is, Snips,” he muttered after the thought. Since his suit had stopped working his heart had been beating erratically. So, the system that allowed it to function worked, but the controls that regulated it no longer did. He traced the wires sticking out of his chest through the control panel and then down to the belt pieces. He couldn’t see any obvious defects, but he also didn’t currently have his helmet on that could control that.

Now that he thought about it, he wondered if his helmet _was_ the control mechanism. But no, that didn’t make sense. When he was in the air chamber Sidious had installed on the Executrix, he could take his helmet off there and still have his suit working. Though the top of it was probably the computer control system for helmet systems like the heads-up display.

Not finding a defect in the actual control panel unnerved him though, because that meant Sidious possibly wired the shut off inside his body where he couldn’t reach it for repairs. Given his cruelty thus far, he was not really surprised. But he still slammed his fist onto the table in anger. This meant he was going to have to find surgical droids with the right kind of programming, medical supplies for surgery, and space and time to rip himself open like that. None of which he had or knew where to get. Because he knew enough about Tatooine to know he wouldn’t get that kind of specialty equipment there. That left either Coruscant’s medical facilities or Kamino, both of which were heavily guarded and way too close to the Emperor’s operations to be worth the risk in this condition.

Worse yet, even if he found the necessary supplies to do this, he’d have to be conscious while they cut him open and pulled out his organs because he needed to be able to fix the mechanisms himself. And just the thought of that brought back the memories of the first time. When Sidious purposely let them operate on him while he was conscious enough to feel all of it without even local anesthesia. 

He leaned on the table and stared blankly ahead for a minute as he remembered the bright blinding lights above him, the droids moving around him, the unimaginable pain. He could still smell his burning flesh, hear the grinding gears, the high pitched squeal of the cutter saw, the vibration that rattled his nerves. And then he became aware of one sound he’d blocked out before; Sidious’ laughter. He’d been delighting in his suffering and now he couldn’t help but wonder... why hadn’t that made him turn tail and run right off the bat?

He was flooded with all the times the chancellor had called him ‘friend’ or ‘son’. How he’d always been there to support him and encourage him. And all of those moments suddenly twisted in his brain, filled with the laughter from the surgery. 

He hung his head. How desperate he’d been for validation and someone to understand him. He’d poured his every worry out to the chancellor only to now see how each and every one of those things had been used against him. He was such a fool! He pounded his fist on the table again and straightened. 

He marched back to the med room, ignoring all the parts dangling from his chest. “Plug into the computer, search for medical facilities. Preferably unguarded or ones not under imperial control,” he ordered the doctor droid.

“But my lord, that is not one of my-"

“Do it!” he snapped, knowing full well that while he had the emotion behind the command, his voice was barely a pathetic whisper without his helmet on. The droid finally turned and plugged into the ship computer while he sat back down on the bed to catch his breath. 

This was a nightmare. Worse than the ones he had at night because this one couldn’t be blinked away and forgotten. How had Sidious kept the illusion so real? The promise that turning to the dark side, following _him_ , could fix all his problems? Because now that they were breaking down, it was impossible to figure out why they’d ever been believable to begin with. Had he just been that desperate that he’d believe anything? Or had he been tricked or deceived? Considering how long the Sith Lord had hidden in plain sight, it made sense he’d been tricked or deceived. But then again, he’d known what he was when he made the choice to follow him. And maybe he didn’t know the depth of what that meant, but he’d still known. So that left desperation. 

And now he was desperate for a totally different reason, and this time, no promises from anyone would ever be trusted. He couldn’t make that mistake again. Whatever happened from here on out, was him and him alone.

The doctor droid brought up the list of possible medical facilities and he went over to the screen to go through them. There weren’t very many not in imperial occupied space. Some were in hutt space which meant no imperials, but still plenty of guards. He crossed those off the list. That left two. One he’d never heard of, the other an old clone medical facility he remembered from the beginning of the war.

While Sidious had closed down or repurposed Kamino and the other clone facilities, it was possible this one had been completely abandoned. Which also meant it was possible it was a trap. If shutting off his suit didn’t kill him, as Sidious was probably aware, his master would know he’d need medical care that couldn’t be provided on the vessel he’d stolen. Meaning it was very possible he’d make a conveniently abandoned one seem enticing enough to lure him there. 

His options were few, but he finally decided to continue to Tatooine first. It was the last place the emperor would expect him to go. He could still gather parts, potentially take a new ship. And if it was reported he was there, it might draw the possible ambush away from the medical facility. Also if the imperials invade Tatooine looking for him, it would anger the hutts, which could lead to the cartel openly declaring war against the empire. And while he knew another war was the last thing the galaxy needed, at least the hutts had enough resources to keep the empire too busy to track him for awhile. In the long run, the hutts would probably be defeated and admittedly, those were tears he could never shed. 

It was possibly a very stupid plan, or it was completely genius. It got his most hated species out of the way, kept the imperials busy, potentially destroyed the planet he hated the most and took Sidious’ immediate attention off of him. It was a win all the way around, except for returning to the planet he hated. But at least it would be a short visit.

He instructed the droid to scan his breathing system in order to find a way to hook the oxygen tank into his suit overriding the current system so he could put his helmet back on. It took a considerable amount of time to create a temporary solution. While this solved the breathing problem, the other parts of the body were unregulated and he was already dealing with the effects of it. 

After his fourth trip to empty his catheter bag, he finally decided to time how long it took to fill up so he knew when he’d have to deal with that again. The erratic heartbeat made him nervous because he wasn’t sure if it was strong enough to keep up with any intense fighting for long. He realized partway through the day that his supply of vitapaste was nearly gone and he had no ingredients to make more. So that was yet another thing he’d have to find a way to solve once arriving on Tatooine. His water reservoir wasn’t working either and he was forced to suck hard to get just a few drops. Something that was made incredibly difficult and painful by the artificial ribbing shoved into his esophagus so it didn’t collapse on itself. 

The more he dissected the processes within his suit so that he knew what kind of parts to look for, the more ridiculous and shamed he felt. To think he’d once believed losing half of his right arm was such a terrible blow to his humanity, paled in comparison to the way he felt now. The weight of dwelling on it was getting too much to bear and he finally had to make peace with the fact that his body had been destroyed and there was no way to fix it. All he could do now was make it function as efficiently as possible despite his condition. 

But it wasn’t until he was sitting in the cockpit again, with the pieces of his suit haphazardly put back together, the robe and cape left off and Ahsoka’s lightsaber rolling between his hands that he finally allowed himself to feel the frustration.

Sidious had saved him from death on Mustafar. Despite his will to survive, he’d have died on the banks in the burning ash had his friend not appeared when he did. He’d put him back together, repaired as much of the damage as was possible and built him a mobile life support unit. On top of that, he’d given him a rank and a position and a purpose when he’d lost everything else. And while he could now see the inherent cruelty of some of his behavior, it still felt as though he owed him a debt he’d just run away from. 

Even if he’d been evil and manipulative the whole of their relationship, he’d still done good things for him. He’d supported him when the council _and_ Obi Wan hadn’t, helped him grow and rise through the ranks. He’d been a thoughtful listener and a wise advisor. He’d helped him deal with his emotions regarding difficult situations; clarifying his purpose and where to direct his actions. It was hard to swallow that all of that wasn’t really real. Surely he’d had some fatherly feelings towards him? It couldn’t have all been just to manipulate him, right?

The chancellor had been there for him when nobody else had, and maybe that was just to groom him into becoming his apprentice but despite his new budding point of view, he couldn’t shake that some of it at least had to have meant something. Either that or he was finally feeling the loneliness of running away. 

“How did you do it, Snips?” he whispered, bringing her lightsaber up to study it. “How did you walk away from everything you’d ever known? How did you not come running right back when you felt this moment of isolation? When the weight of what you did finally hit you? How did you stay away?” He sighed. “I know you well enough to know you didn’t just run into instant freedom and enjoy every second of it. I know it was hard, it hurt, you were afraid. So how did you manage to convince yourself the unknown was better than the known?” He felt tears well in his eyes. “I knew you were afraid and I abandoned you anyways. Some friend I was.”


	3. Chapter 3

He was more a spectacle than he’d ever been before as he marched through the streets of Mos Eisely. He’d put his cape back on to cover the machinery on the back of his vest and because it felt more intimidating this way. That was proven quickly as most of the people he passed scattered, instinctually putting as much distance between them as possible, as though he quite literally repelled them. 

Considering that he was here on a specific mission, he was actually grateful for that. Not having to fight his way through the crowd meant less time stuck on this desert planet. But at the same time, as more people ducked out of his way or backed up but continued to stare, the more uneasy he felt. The empire could mobilize quickly and every second he wasted was a second more they had to get here. 

He wasn’t yet aware if a bounty had been put on his head, but he didn’t really put it past the emperor to at least put feelers out there in the right channels to get the attention of hunters crazy enough to risk anything for a pile of credits. So even if there was no public bounty, there was surely a reward offered for information on his whereabouts. 

So, while he appreciated that people got out of the way without him having to intimidate them, it also made him anxious that there was no way to just blend in with the crowd. And the more he tried, the more he was starting to realize what survivors must feel like all the time. 

He kept feeling something strong, something familiar, but every time he glanced around, he never found the source of the feeling. But considering the memories that flooded him on every street corner he could only assume it was his emotionally charged past that was creating the familiar feelings and strong emotions. 

He tried to shake the unease and walk with confidence and fearlessness. Act like he had every right in the world to be here more than those that had already been here. For good measure, he told off anybody stupid enough to not move out of the way fast enough even though he knew drawing more attention to himself could backfire on him. 

But despite how quickly he wanted to get what he came for and get out of here, he couldn’t move very fast at all. He’d been severely crippled by his malfunctioning suit. The lack of energy from his low vitapaste reserves and struggle to get water, made his mechanical limbs so much heavier and harder to move. Added onto that was the extra weight from the temporary oxygen tank now strapped to his back. Right now, he was just hoping intimidation was enough to get what he needed and get out of here.

He turned a corner and stopped in surprise at the family that had frozen in front of him. In the scattering chaos, it looked like they’d ducked into this alley and now had nowhere to go or was hoping he’d not find them. It took a moment to register what he was seeing. A young man, his wife and a baby in her arms. 

He stared at them in confusion as their familiarity finally clicked. _Owen_. He hadn’t seen him in years, in fact, he’d kind of purposely pushed them from his memory of that time; still feeling as though they were partially responsible for his mother’s death. Yes, Owen’s father had freed her from slavery but took her out away from the safety of the cities to where sand people could get her. 

He looked from Owen to the girl, admittedly he couldn’t really remember her name. But he could tell that she was trembling, while still protectively clutching the baby that had started crying. He turned up his nose. He hated kids. He still did. Good for them, he supposed, if that was what they wanted. 

He was about to turn away, but hesitated. He might not be very fond of Owen and his family, but he could use their help. Hadn’t he just been bemoaning that he had no one to help him? They’d probably be too scared of him to refuse or double cross him and if they still lived outside the city, then they could help him fix his suit away from the prying eyes of potential imperial informants. 

While no, they weren’t surgeons or engineers, surely he could direct them on how to fix the parts. But did that mean he had to reveal who he was, or could he trust them to comply through intimidation alone?

His eyes landed on the baby again. It was still fussing in her arms, but it wasn’t a newborn. He was terrible at gauging ages in children but for whatever reason it made him think about the kids him and Ahsoka had saved from Mustafar years ago. The kid was reacting strongly to his presence or he was picking up on his mother’s fear. Was this child force sensitive? If so, he should call it in. 

He dropped his wrist. What was he doing? Summoning his inquisitors here was the last thing he should do. Not only would it tell the Emperor exactly where he was, who even cared about a stupid baby on a miserable planet like this? Even _if_ it could use the force, it was going to grow up so far removed from anything that would nurture those powers and likely they’d fizzle out being wasted as a moisture farmer in the middle of a desert.

He felt something else shift nearby, in the silence he’d found while staring at them. It didn’t feel inherently dangerous but again, he saw nothing when he glanced around. It was possible a survivor could be hiding here. On a hutt planet, why not? Plenty of places to disappear to in the desert and canyons. The sand people wouldn’t be a threat to a Jedi. Not to mention the empire hadn’t yet invaded cartel lands so it was as close to a neutral planet as you could get.

Whatever it was he’d felt move though snapped him out of his thoughts and he finally decided better of asking them for help. He didn’t want to reveal his true identity to anyone, even people that had no reason to turn him in. He just wanted to get the parts and get out of here. He straightened.

“Get out of my way!” he snapped, moving just enough to give them a path by. He didn’t have to ask them twice, they immediately inched around him and scurried away just like the rodents in the alleys. Part of him felt stupid for not asking for their help, but the other part was glad to shove those memories aside and refocus on his mission here. Whatever other thing he’d felt apparently shifted away too, so if they’d thought it was their duty to protect innocents from a threat, they’d clearly decided he wasn’t a threat anymore. 

Unsurprising really. It wouldn’t take a very discerning force user to recognize even in all his intimidation tactics, that he wasn’t in good shape. They’d probably have sensed the growing weakness and the fading strength despite outward appearances. And even though he’d felt it shift away after letting Owen and his family go, he was suddenly certain it hadn’t gone far. And admittedly, that unnerved him. 

The last thing he needed right now was a confrontation with someone with power even if they hadn’t been a Jedi Master. He’d never survive a duel in his current condition. So, if whoever it was, was still watching him, he needed to get what he’d come here for and get out of here before they decided he was an easy enough target to pick off.

He shook off his indecision and headed down the side street towards Watto’s old shop. He really didn’t want to see Watto again, but at least he knew for sure he was still collecting his precious junk. 

It wasn’t in good shape, not that it ever really had been. But even two steps in the door he already saw a few parts he could use. The old toydarian fluttered out of the back and asked him what he wanted. 

“You’re going to let me help myself to whatever junk I want from this shop,” he growled in a raspy voice. He didn’t have time to play games with him. As far as he was concerned, Watto more than owed him for his _and_ his mother’s years of slavery under him. He could spare some of his junk. 

Watto grumbled under his breath in huttese and he turned on him, raising his hand as though to do a mind trick. He knew it wouldn’t work but it was meant for intimidation. He repeated his command.

“Stupid Jedi! Mind tricks don’t work on toydarians!” Watto spat at him. He clamped his fist shut, putting force into his murderous thoughts as all the years of suffering and hatred poured out of him.

“It wasn’t a mind trick, it was a threat,” he said in a low voice, trying to hide the gasps. He tightened his force grip on his throat until Watto started squirming. “And I’m no Jedi. I’m far, far worse. Now you’re going to let me help myself and then I’m going to leave, or I’ll kill you.”

“What would a stupid imperial want with my junk?” Watto muttered in huttese when he’d released him. 

“That’s my business, not yours.” He threw the shop keeper back against the wall and into a pile of parts, hard enough to knock him out of the air and potentially knock him out completely. It was just as well. He couldn’t feel any kind of sympathy for him. The only reason he’d restrained from killing him before was because Padmé had been with him. And he supposed, some loyalty to the Jedi and the light. He didn’t have any of that now though, and he definitely didn’t have any patience. 

He held up Ahsoka’s lightsaber half thinking about just finishing him off altogether but before igniting it, he decided he couldn’t use hers to kill in cold blood. Otherwise he’d end up eventually bleeding the crystal anyways instead of keeping the blue blade he wanted right now. He almost regretted leaving his red one on the ship, but it didn’t matter. He could kill without his lightsaber if he wanted. Force knew scumbags and slavers like Watto deserved it.

He ignored the toydarian’s pitiful groaning and went to work scavenging the building and property for pieces that could help him modify and fix his suit. He wasn’t sure how long he was there before he started to feel the fatigue and to add insult to injury, the heat. It hadn’t even dawned on him that the temperature regulations in his suit weren’t working either having only been on a ship with a controlled environment. 

He dumped out a crate he found in the back room and started filling it with all the parts and tools he’d gathered. He tried to put all his focus into his task, relying on the force to keep him standing and moving. His stomach was growling now, the last bite of vitapaste he’d taken this morning hadn’t satisfied it. He jiggled his vest a few times in an effort to get the water in his tank to splash up enough to suck it out. Finally, he growled in frustration and stumbled out to the small moisture tower Watto kept behind the shop. Feeling like he was going to overheat, he grabbed the first cup like object he could find, wiped it off as best as he could with his cloak and then filled it with whatever was in the tower.

He stared at the slimy brownish liquid and squeezed his eyes shut. Then he unlatched his helmet and tried to get as much of it in his mouth as fast as he could manage before latching the helmet back in place. He coughed and sputtered both from the taste and the air he’d sucked in with it and his HUD started flipping through all the settings and modes as he choked and contorted his face in response to the gross water trying not to let it seep out of his mouth to disrupt the electrical systems.

He felt this outrage rise up in him and before he could squash it, he spun around and slammed his fist through the door to one of the sheds. Metal fist, metal door. He felt the shockwave go through his non-metal parts though and tried not to collapse in defeat. 

What was Sidious playing at? If he wanted his power, wanted to control the chosen one, why would he try to kill him instead of capture him? Surely there’d have been ways to hardwire restraints into the suit as easily as a shutoff. All he wanted to do right now was smash everything, but he was also far too aware of his waning energy. He had a limited time to get back to the ship before he was out of luck completely. 

Unless the shutoff was part of the restraint... his eyes widened at the thought. He hadn’t even considered that. He got to his feet and grabbed the crate of parts he’d gathered. He marched down the street until he found an older model astromech outside another shop. After threatening the owner until they ran inside, he ordered the droid to scan his suit for any trackers. 

After a few minutes, _the old Q series were so slow compared to the R series_ , the droid beeped a confirmation of his fear. He swore. That was the failsafe. How had he been so stupid? The suit would shut down until he was no longer conscious, then it would enable a tracker and put him into stasis so Sidious could retrieve his wayward toy. 

In ripping apart his control panel, he’d somehow destroyed or disabled the stasis mechanism, meaning none of the suit’s life support systems had come back online. But the tracker of course, still worked. 

Without pulling it all apart again, there was nothing he could do about the tracker. But now he had to go, the Empire would be here any minute to fetch him. He ripped off the restraining bolt on the astromech and ordered it to follow him. Even in its complaining, it did so as he hurried back to his ship. 

He swore again as soon as he saw the flashing lights indicating incoming on the dashboard of the shuttle. It didn’t take a genius to know the shuttle had been remotely locked down so he couldn’t escape. He reactivated the medical droid, grabbed the spare oxygen tank, dumped the rest of his parts and tools into the crate and turned on the repulser. Then he ran back out of the shuttle and towards the other bays looking for another ship. 

Several hangers over he found a C Plus light freighter and immediately headed aboard. Halfway up the ramp with his two droids and the crate of supplies, the captain or owner of the ship started yelling at him. He turned around, reached into the force and waved his hand in front of the female alien. 

“Your ship is in docking bay 3B. You will forget you saw me and forget this ship,” he wheezed with as much command and power as he could muster. 

“My ship is in docking bay 3B...” she repeated his command and turned around, walking out of the hanger. He sighed in relief. He could have just killed her he supposed, but that would take too long. 

He dropped into the pilot seat, ordered the astromech to get the ship in the air and focused all his energy and thoughts on navigating his way out of all the imperial ships that had just appeared in the atmosphere and were coming down to land. They didn’t really pay any attention to the little freighter he was on, why would they? The ship they were looking for was still in the Mos Eisley Spaceport. Sidious probably wouldn’t believe he’d have figured out the tracker in his suit fast enough to avoid the ambush. He’d believe by now he’d be weak enough to capture.

But Sidious didn’t know his will to survive, or he’d underestimated it. They’d figure it out soon enough, but by then he’d be gone again. He inputted the first coordinates he could think of into the nav computer and jumped as soon as it beeped. He was still trackable, for now. But that would be remedied shortly. First, he had to find something to eat though and he hoped the previous owner of this ship had stocked up recently.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel by Bear’s Den is a song that really describes a lot of how I imagine Anakin and Vader and how they exist in the same space.

He went rummaging through the cupboards in the freighter’s galley, looking for anything that could be mashed up or mixed up or made into a paste to restore his food reserves. He still had the sludgy and oily water taste in his mouth from Tatooine and even the nasty vitapaste sounded better than that. Whatever he managed to mix up wouldn’t be as nutritiously packed but right now some was better than none. Fuel first, taste later.

After that, emptying the waste, fixing the water reservoir and then finding and destroying the tracker. Even if Sidious could track him, most trackers, especially mobile ones, didn’t work in hyperspace, so he at least had a few hours before he’d be broadcasting his whereabouts again. 

He finally pulled together enough various foods to mix together and mash up, shoving the gooey mess into his helmet feeder. It took some tweaking but finally he managed to get a few bites and he sat down at the table and tried to pull himself together while he refueled slowly. The mixture wasn’t particularly tasty but at least he felt some strength returning. 

For the first time since his suit malfunctioned, he felt a small rise of hope. Maybe he could do this after all. Maybe running away hadn’t been as crazy as it felt. Maybe he could outrun or outsmart the Emperor. Sidious would have spies everywhere, but considering that he was slowly going to have to rebuild his entire suit, who knew how long before he was unrecognizable as the imperial puppet he’d been before? In fact, he was kind of looking forward to designing the system. Even if it was going to take time to find the parts and pieces necessary to do so. Maybe there’d be ways to modify it, make it better and more efficient. Maybe even better looking, though for now he’d have to settle for whatever he could get. Just knowing there were possibilities now though, that lifted his spirits.

“See, Snips? I’m on the right track,” he murmured, sitting back and taking a deep breath. “I just wish you were here to see it.”

Having forced himself to swallow as much as he could manage for now, he headed into the refresher. He put his leg up on the toilet and rolled up his pant leg and let the catheter empty. Reminding him yet again of all the unregulated body systems. Despite the hope that he’d get through this, it was disheartening to learn more and more of the extent of the damage he’d sustained.

It was hard not to feel hatred towards Obi Wan for that. Looking back, maybe his old master had been right, or at least justified, in trying to stop him, but it still set his anger on fire like the flames had scorched his skin. If he’d just listened! If he’d just been there for him! If he’d just... tried for once to see his side... he wouldn’t have been so badly mutilated or so easily enslaved.

Yes Sidious had saved him, but he’d also trapped him in this torture suit before he could really fight it. Had Obi Wan not cut him down and left him to die, he wouldn’t now be running for his life feeling so pathetic and lost. _His_ actions still felt justified even if he could now see how extreme they were. If he could have finished what he set out to do, he could have ended the war, saved Padmé and still been able to kill Sidious. 

And sure, maybe he wouldn’t have done it right away. After all, the creation of the empire had been a good step towards structure and safety. But once everything has been established, he could’ve overthrown him and not let the galaxy remain under a Sith. That had been his ultimate goal and Obi Wan’s actions made it impossible now.

He tried to fight the seething anger, hating that it still consumed him. He couldn’t forgive Obi Wan for what he’d done. He couldn’t forgive what it had cost him. It was Obi wan's fault he was in this condition now. It was Obi wan’s fault he hadn’t been able to save Padmé. It was Obi wan’s fault he’d become another slave. And it was Obi wan’s fault he now had to rebuild his entire suit if he wanted any hope of defeating Sidious.

He wanted to smash something but he had enough broken things around him right now, that wouldn’t help. He cleaned up the equipment and the refresher and headed back out to the crate of parts. His visit to Tatooine had been cut short so he wasn’t sure if he’d managed to get enough useful pieces to make significant changes to his suit yet. If nothing else though, he was sure he’d grabbed something to fix his water reservoir. At least then he’d have the basics mostly covered and would be able to function better while tracking down the rest. 

“Droid,” he called to the astromech he’d stolen from Tatooine. It beeped and rolled towards him. At some point he’d have to upgrade it too so it could help him better. Though considering its condition, it was likely a Jawa piece mail creation. It functioned but not great and had none of its original parts. And sadly, very little personality. He felt a pang. He’d lost Artoo in all this too. “What do you go by?” The droid beeped it’s response. “Okay, Q-9. We got off to a bit of a rough start but I could use your help now.”

Addressing it by its given designator seemed to boost its motivation or put it at ease about being here. Funny how droids were that way. It made sense really. They might not be sentient but they’re more willing to help you if you treat them with respect. Earn their loyalty and you never lose it. The clones had been the same way, except they _were_ sentient. Even if few others saw it that way. 

He reached out and set his hand on the flat top of Q-9 and sighed. “I need you to scan the systems in my suit and help generate schematics for them. I know you’re not equipped for this but do the best you can for now. Also see if you can pinpoint the source of the tracking signal.” He stood up straighter with his arms out to the side and his legs slightly apart in order to make it easier for the droid to scan everything. 

The pleather material was meant to be insulating so it was several layers thick. And likely with this old droid’s current capabilities, the diagrams would be largely incomplete. But since the water, food intake and waste systems were all mainly exterior, hopefully it could generate enough information to get started on those. Tracking signals were different. Most droids were specially designed to be able to scan for trackers or slice into computer systems. Since the signal wave isn’t trapped inside the suit itself, anything able to track them will find them. 

The droid circled him a few times, scanning him from different angles in order to create a more 3D view of the suit and how it was designed. He was trying to remain hopeful this would be a big step forward with his situation, but he also knew if Sidious had gone to such great lengths to make sure the suit contained and regulated everything, he certainly wouldn’t make it easy to escape it or undo his efforts. After all, he’d have to make sure he would be dependent on him in every way. 

And maybe he had been or assumed he had been and that’s what made him take so long to breakaway. Or he’d just needed the right motivation. He glanced at Ahsoka’s lightsaber sitting on the table. If only he’d thought to call her instead of Obi Wan. She may have been his apprentice but sometimes, she was wise beyond her years. And definitely wiser than him. But he hadn’t been thinking straight, he hadn’t known where to turn. She hadn’t been in front of him and after she’d been away so long, he hadn’t... thought to call _her_ for help. 

Maybe there wouldn’t have been a lot she could’ve done, or maybe distracting her would’ve caused her to fail her mission or worse, get her killed. But then again... she’d died anyways and it was still his fault so how much worse could that have been?

He dropped his head. “I’m sorry, Snips. I get why you left now, you were safer away from me. If you hadn’t of come back, you’d probably still be alive right now. Hunted, but at least able to run.” The droid paused his scan and beeped in confusion. “Snips? Oh... that was my padawan when I was a Jedi. We used to call each other by nicknames. She called me Skyguy and I called her Snips. She was a friend too, a good friend.” The droid beeped again in curiosity. “She... died. I... killed her.” He felt the weight of that truth hit him. He stumbled over and sat down on a crate. “I killed them all.”

From the moment he’d seen the crash, he’d known he was responsible for her death, but there was a crack that ripped through him like a ground quake, splitting the land of his soul as the confession fell from his lips. No he hadn’t been the one to swing the death blow, but he was the reason they were all dead. And the blood of so many were on his hands. The younglings too. 

As he felt the disgust rise in his throat, he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d done it. He’d made a choice but in that choice he’d somehow completely deceived himself that what he was doing was right. That it would fix everything. Since that day, Sidious had forced him to talk of Anakin as though he was someone else. As though he could rip him from his soul and go on living with a different name. 

For a year or so, he’d drifted along, separated from that part, that person, that past. And suddenly he understood Ahsoka’s true power and her influence on him. All throughout his life it had always felt like there was a dark cloud, a shadow, him but not him that always followed him around. They were separate, but tied together. They sometimes switched places, and fought for control. And most of the time, Anakin won. The good person he had desperately tried to be.

But there were days the shadow won, moments where he didn’t align with who he wanted to be. Moments he couldn’t be that person. And in all that instability, the two sides fought harder and more bitterly for complete control, and the shadow gained more and more strength.

Then Ahsoka came along and somehow in her faith, and compassion, and humor, she snapped the two pieces back together. He couldn’t think of a single time in his memory where he felt the war between those two sides when she was around. It was probably still there, it just hadn’t consumed him. She had the power to make him complete, to balance the two sides into one whole being. She never judged him for the darkness, she just put a hand on his arm and spoke softly to it. Her trust and faith in him had built his confidence, made him strive to be better, to be the person that she saw. The one that could coexist with this shadow and not constantly want to destroy everything. 

He reached his hand out and summoned her lightsaber to his hand, ignoring the way the droid beeped in surprise. He looked down at it. From the moment he’d found her lightsaber, felt that echo of her presence, the two sides had started coming back together once again. As though no matter how hard he’d tried to throw Anakin away, it was still there and now being reeled back in. Maybe him and the shadow needed each other. Maybe that was the true conflict; even as they fought for dominance, one couldn't exist without the other. And all he’d ever needed was someone that reminded him of that. 

He ignited her lightsaber and stared at the blue blade while lost in thought. Of all the ghosts that haunted him, hers hurt the most. And now he knew why. Because as long as he held her close, with her crystal, with his memory, Anakin was here too. And Anakin had to face the guilt of what his shadow had delighted in. 

It almost made him want to throw her lightsaber out the airlock just so he could not feel the weight of what he’d done. But he couldn’t let her go, it was all he had left worth fighting for. Her memory, her honor, her soul... wherever it was in the force. This was about more than just escaping Sidious. He didn’t truly believe there was any redemption he could earn, but he did believe, there was something he could do to make up for it. His soul was beyond saving, too broken to be fixed, but the galaxy wasn’t yet. And if he did nothing else with what was left of this body, he’d fight until his dying breath to make sure it couldn’t break like he did. 

He shut off the lightsaber and stood up again, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “Q-9, have you finished scanning my suit?” The droid beeped an acknowledgment but informed him of what he’d expected, large parts were missing from the diagrams and schematics because the material was too thick for it to scan. “Medical droid,” he said after marching over to turn it back on. “Are you able to scan the mechanical systems inside me or just the organic material?”

The droid explained it could only scan the organic material. It could show places there were mechanisms but had no way to create schematics from them. He told the two droids to compile all the results of their scans and then had Q-9 bring it up on the computer so he could go through it. 

There wasn’t enough information to get a good sense of the systems inside his body, but at the very least, the astromech had been able to put together a relatively complete diagram of the water, food and waste systems. And they were in worse shape than he’d thought. He did not have enough medical knowledge to understand how the suit removed the waste from his body, but from what little he could make sense of, it was disgusting.

He went to the refresher and pulled up the vest part enough to reveal the long slender bag that had rested across his stomach. It made him gag and he sighed. He’d never really paid attention to what his servants did when they put him in or took him out of the bacta tank. How conveniently he ignored the true depth of his problems choosing instead to direct his hatred towards others. If his suit was working properly, the content that filled this bag would breakdown by itself and release only as a gas out the back of his suit. But now that it wasn’t, he had to find a way to empty what was inside it without spilling it all over himself and the ship. Or he could just make the medical droid do it.

But he supposed at some point, he’d have to learn how to deal with this stuff himself. On the run, there’d be no guarantee he could keep taking the droids with him from planet to planet or ship to ship. So he might as well start now. 

In front of the mirror, he moved the bag around, peeling back corners and looking for a way to remove it. He finally found that it twisted off at one spot and carefully held it over the toilet as it pulled away from his body. He was grateful he couldn’t smell anymore as the contents fell into the water. And finally he rinsed it out, tried to clean off the skin around where it attached, and twisted it back into place, securing the vest over it once more. 

It had never hit him harder than that moment how much about life he’d taken for granted. He emptied his catheter while he was in there too and then headed back into the main room. 

He poured over the schematics of the water system and the parts he’d gathered for hours, trying to come up with a solution to get it working again. By the fifth design, he felt like he at the very least had a temporary fix that wouldn’t add too much extra weight to the suit. While checking on the nav computer occasionally, he and Q-9 went to work putting it together. He had to depend on the droid for much of the work since the system was mainly in the back part of his vest. But at least the droid didn’t complain and followed all his instructions. 

He was also able to at least temporarily disable or block the tracking system until they could find the source of the signal to remove completely. Which was just in time, because shortly afterwards, the nav computer beeped that they’d made it to the next destination.


	5. Chapter 5

He stepped out onto the old battle station. It was kind of eerie how silent it was. How different from during the war, he could almost still hear the endless clanking footsteps of droids running or marching down the halls. The sound of machinery moving, the dread of turrets popping up or electric traps. 

He took a deep breath trying to suppress the traumatic memories of endless war. Maybe in the grand scheme of things, the war had been short, only three years. But when you’re living it every day in endless pressure and exhaustion, it had a way of feeling like it would never end. And it tricked your mind into thinking it lasted longer than it did. 

He didn’t really know what had made him think to come here, but it had popped in his head and he’d gone without another thought. This was one of the Separatist battle stations that hadn’t been destroyed, only shut down. It was still orbiting this uninhabited moon but without power or anything. Nobody really knew about its existence, or rather most that did were dead. He only remembered it because he’d seen something go by after the Separatists surrendered that listed their remaining resources. He wasn’t even sure why he’d filed away the coordinates for this, but now he was grateful he had. There wasn’t really anything of value for him here, but he’d had a thought that maybe he could use the deactivated droids as a way to distract the imperials long enough to get in and out of the old medical base he’d read about before.

Especially now that they’d probably scanned the shuttle he’d left on Tatooine from top to bottom. Any slicer with even a little experience would be able to pull up the records of what he’d searched for and know where he was considering going next. He was going to have to be better about purging databanks after he used them from here on out, or he’d never pull out of the Emperor’s reach. 

Not that he wanted more of these stupid droids running around the galaxy. Q-9 opened the blast doors and turned on enough power for lights, the rest of the doors and the computer. He shook himself and headed towards the console. It was time to find out what resources and programming capabilities this battle station had.

He was knee deep in logs when he came across old droid battle plans. Even though that wasn’t what he was looking for, he opened up the files anyways thinking maybe they’d give him some ideas for ways to use these droids effectively enough to keep the empire occupied for awhile. 

He was surprised to find in the archives of the computer logs were calculations of the success and failure of every separatist mission. But he also found something else, that many of the orders that were being given didn’t trace back to wherever Dooku or Grievous could have been at the time. Most of them originated from Coruscant. That shouldn’t have surprised him and yet somehow... he tightened his fist. He was suddenly certain if he had logs of the Jedi temple communications with the chancellor, all of these time stamps would coincide with briefings before deployment or whenever the council discussed war strategies. 

After swearing himself to Sidious, he’d been told what information he’d needed for the creation of the Empire, and maybe he’d even suspected just how much the chancellor had his fingers in, but to see proof right in front of him now that Palpatine had been behind almost every battle in the war burned his insides. So much trauma, so much loss, so much blood that he drowned in every day, all orchestrated by the person he’d sworn to follow. The only person in the end there, he’d thought he _could_ trust. 

No, he couldn’t go back to being a Jedi even if that was something he wanted, nor could he ever return to the light. But he could use this unquenchable darkness to right some wrongs. Or at the very least, end Sidious’ endless scheming. Whoever took his place didn’t really matter. At least it wouldn’t be a Sith Lord anymore. Then maybe the empire could continue on as it was meant to under the supervision of at least killable foes if they overstepped their bounds. 

The battle plans did give him an idea though. Perhaps he could program the remaining droids to execute one of them on an imperial occupied world. But, he was going to give them a surprise. Instead of having them march out in endless predictable waves, he wanted to give them a challenge. 

Before he could get to work on that though, he had to return to his ship several times to deal with his suit and check that the tracker was still disabled, while he poured over the information still locked away in the Separatist battle station. He had a feeling he was going to be here for a few days planning out his next move. He needed a target close enough to the abandoned medical station that it would pull any imperials there to the distraction, but far enough away to give him time and freedom to gather what he needed there. Unless he had several battle stations under his control, he didn’t think these droids would wreak enough havoc to give him the time required for surgery. 

That, in itself, was incredibly frustrating. Because just stealing surgical droids and supplies didn’t guarantee he’d get enough of what he needed. There’d be no lab to work in, no equipment, probably the wrong set of tools and worse yet, no bacta tank to recover in. If only it was possible to steal the medical station itself. But since it had been deployed and had no engine or hyperdrive, that was impossible.

He’d already explored the alien’s ship he’d stolen from Tatooine completely. They had one medical bed, if you could call a minimal diagnostic panel glued to the headboard that, but nothing in the way of supplies or equipment for the kind of help he needed. And they certainly didn’t have a bacta tank aboard. 

He was going to have to program the droids in such a way that they could either learn as they go or find a way to reprogram their battle tactics. They had to be advanced enough to keep the imperials busy and hard to kill enough that it was worth calling for backup. 

He almost laughed to himself at the idea of improving the enemy the way they should have been during the war. But he supposed if what he’d read in the records were true, they couldn’t be too powerful. They’d been designed to fight with numbers not necessarily better tactics. To prolong the fights, to waste resources and to be disposable. But unlike the clones, the graveyard of parts left behind after every battle could be swept up, collected and reused to create more. 

Which made the endless swarms make more sense now that he could see why the separatists never really ran out of resources or money to create more. It was no wonder destroying the weapons factories hardly slowed them down. They could just be rebuilt constantly, memory wiped and sent back on their way. 

He sat back and closed his eyes, trying to process everything. The more he read, the more it infuriated him that it had been so hard to stop the enemy. But it also infuriated him for another reason; how carefully calculated every aspect of their success or failure was at any given time. It made every victory sour in his mouth, every accomplishment seemed useless and every death pointless. 

And for just a moment, he almost envied the other Jedi that had so easily stayed detached and emotionless. The ones that hadn’t cared about the clones or felt every death. It made him wish he’d been just as heartless and uncaring. It made him wish he’d ignored every Jedi code and pushed for victory regardless of the lines it crossed or the lives it destroyed. Because maybe in doing so, he would have outsmarted Sidious’ plans. His ‘friend’ had delighted in his suffering just as much from the battles as from the surgery. And had he not allowed himself to feel the compassion, Sidious would have had nothing to control him with. Without one’s will to bend, there is only victory or death. Either he’d have died for the Republic or he’d have stopped the war sooner. 

Yet even as he thought this, he couldn’t concede that the Jedi had it right, because they hadn’t. They’d been blind, weak, _shallow_. They’d let their principles stop them from doing what was necessary to win.

“Answer me this, Obi Wan,” he said outloud. “How did the Jedi code justify the millions more that suffered from prolonging the war over the thousands that might have been sacrificed by ending it sooner? Even if it meant doing things we disagreed with? Was the payoff worth it? Does this outcome give you comfort now, Master?”

He let it burn for awhile and then shook himself angrily and went back to work. The other option was using the droids to accompany him to the medical station, like his own little army fighting only there. That at least guaranteed the imperials would be kept busy if the station wasn’t abandoned and also would make it possible to make off with a doctor or two as needed. The risk with that though, was that would draw more imperial reinforcements to him rather than away. But if he miscalculated where to cause the distraction, he’d be fighting whatever forces could be there alone.

Under normal circumstances, that wouldn’t necessarily be a big deal. Stormtroopers weren’t that much smarter than droids. Brainwashed by propaganda, their eagerness was there, but their training woefully lacking. It was like grabbing random people on the street, handing them a blaster, telling them what to shoot and then sending them off to war. The only difference between them and the droids were they had a choice to fight. And what they lacked in training and aim, they made up for in numbers and fanatical devotion to the empire. Yet even their numbers could be overcome if he was in fit fighting shape.

He sat back in frustration. The only guarantee he’d have to get anything useful from the medical station if it was occupied, was to invade it with his new droid army. So, he needed a way to scout the situation first. 

He got up and headed down to one of the cargo rooms where the droids were kept. There were plenty of standards, super battle droids or SBDs, a dozen or so droidekas, spider tanks, commando droids, etc. He wandered from room to room trying to take stock of what he had available to him. There was light and heavy infantry, but for an invasion on a space station, most of the heavy artillery would be useless. That did create the possibility for a two-pronged attack though.

Perhaps he could unleash part of them nearby as a distraction and still have enough to take with him to the medical station. Without a command vessel though, the logistics of that would be tricky. If only he had a few separatist dreadnaughts to keep imperial cruisers occupied while also coordinating ground troops and attacks.

Despite his hatred towards Sidious for so many things, he did have to acknowledge one thing he admired him for. Planning a battle, let alone an entire war, was exhausting and difficult. The fact that Sidious had managed to not only orchestrate one side, but also both, in a way that let everybody fall into it so predictably, had to have taken incredible intelligence and foresight. But even as he thought that it came with a double-edged blade. If Sidious could have planned out that much and everything went mostly according to plan, that millions of people played their given roles within it, how was he, as one person with maybe a few hundred battle droids, a broken suit and no allies, supposed to stop him?

Power alone couldn’t undo that. Even at optimal health. The entire Jedi order hadn’t been enough to take him down, let alone even discover who it was. It might be possible for him to stay on the run, to avoid getting caught, but he’d been hardly the best resource the Emperor had. So, it wasn’t like it couldn’t keep spreading and eventually catch up with him. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his miserable life running. But until Sidious was dead, he had no other choice. 

He stopped in the corner of one of the cargo holds and looked over the dozen magnaguards in front of him. Next to them were a few dozen commando droids. Now this... might be perfect. A few of each of these could be his personal bodyguards to the medical station. They’d need upgrades though, better programming and better tactics. 

He almost laughed at the realization that he was unironically, taking Dooku’s place for the second time. Now he knew why Palpatine had wanted him to kill Dooku. _Always two there are, a master and an apprentice._ His eyes widened. How long would Sidious chase him before deciding to replace him instead?

Realistically, his master would know that stormtroopers alone wouldn’t be able to bring him back. The inquisitors might have a slightly better chance given his condition, but only some of them were Jedi that had been turned and definitely not masters. The rest were results of Sidious’ experiments and far from well-trained enough to stop him. And since he’d been the one overseeing their training, surely that too had been a blow to the academy. But...

Maul might still be out there. He hadn’t felt his death or even an echo of his presence in the crash that had killed Ahsoka. So, he could only assume he’d managed to escape in the chaos following order 66. Sidious would likely be aware of this too. If he tracked him down and molded him back into his apprentice... he’d probably be his worst threat. Unless, like it kept appearing, Sidious had a backup plan for losing him. In which case, there’d be another, greater threat out there that could appear out of nowhere. And he had no doubts, that one would be well enough trained to take him down in this condition regardless of a few hundred improved battle droids. That was assuming Sidious didn’t do his dirty work himself this time. In which case, he definitely wouldn’t survive. He was all too aware how Sidious had designed this suit so that his force lightning could penetrate it. That it could short circuit or destroy all the electrical systems. Though given how it was malfunctioning, perhaps his lightning wouldn’t have the same effect now. Not something he particularly wanted tested though.

_This was infuriating!_ Every step forward was met with a few steps back. How or when was he ever going to get the upper hand? Outsmarting someone that had masterminded everything felt a bit too much like playing near a sarlacc pit. Just when you think you’re in the clear, you’re blindsided by yet another tentacle. Over and over again, until one grabs you and drags you down. There’s too many of them to watch them all at every moment.

He exhaled in frustration, trying to keep his cool. Sidious had taught him that dark side abilities, that true power, came from strong emotions. To use that anger and hatred to fuel your power. That was all well and good, but... he’d rarely ever seen Sidious particularly emotional about anything. So, it was possible it was yet another illusion he’d weaved into his life, another lie for him to believe. And right now, being emotional wouldn’t help him outsmart him, so... despite the burning in his soul, he had to keep it in check as much as possible. When it was time to face his master again, then maybe he could unleash all this building disgust and hatred. Besides, his emotions and compassion had been how Sidious had controlled him before, and he had no desire to be compassionate now.

There was nobody alive that still mattered to him, so it was a waste of energy to care. It couldn’t undo anything; it would only cause more problems. And after seeing all that Sidious had his fingers in, and seeing how pointless every death had been, he wasn’t sure he even believed in the concept of a greater good. He wasn’t sure he could ever again buy into the idea that honor, beliefs... a code... somehow made you morally upright in a world of corruption and suffering. Ending the war sooner without compassion could’ve prevented everything. So now that he could see that clearly, it made sense to do that now. 

Stop Sidious, no matter what the cost. Any suffering it caused would be justified in the end. Plain and simple.

“Q-9,” he called to his droid. “Activate one of these magnaguards.” He pointed to the one directly in front of him but made sure to grab for the lightsaber just in case they were programmed to attack anything that wasn’t Dooku, Grievous or fellow droids. 

A few minutes later it buzzed to life in front of him, straightening and raising its electrostaff. He stood there for a moment, waiting to see if it would do anything. But it stood there idle as though awaiting orders. Excellent.

“I am Lord Vader, your new master. You will serve me as you once served Count Dooku.”

“Affirmative. Awaiting orders,” the droid replied in the grating mechanical voice he hadn’t missed at all. Though he doubted he sounded much better with his vocalizer. 

“Patrol the station, attack anything except for me and this droid. Be on alert for probes,” he ordered.

The droid acknowledged his command and left the hanger. He didn’t really think he was in danger of being discovered here, but since they’d activated one, he figured it might as well be useful until he can get the others programmed and ready to go. Thinking about the probe droids though, did remind him about his suit tracker. While Q-9 could temporarily block it, the signal could come back online at any time and without him scanning it constantly, they might not notice until it was too late. The good news was, battle stations like these had the capability of jamming signals and disrupting communication. He doubted it would take much rewiring to have it block any outgoing signals originating from inside the station. 

He didn’t want to jam everything though, because he still wanted a warning system if anything got too close. And if he set up the jammer, any passing imperials would notice the disruption to communications, and he couldn't take the risk of them investigating. So, for now, he just needed to block outgoing and otherwise keep the station at absolute minimal power so as to not be detected as he prepared this attack. One advantage he had, was he didn’t have to bother turning on life support since he could survive with just his suit and escape to his ship as needed to empty the catheter or expose any vulnerable areas. 

Imperials weren’t the only problem however, there were pirates and bounty hunters and even curious enough civilians or explorers that could detect a jamming signal and potentially investigate. And they didn’t always stick to the main hyperspace lanes. So, it was better to not advertise anything for as long as possible. 

So, he needed to plan out his strategy, write the new programs and prepare the upgrades before he turned all the droids back online. Powering them up in small groups was too risky. Not only would it take too long, but the increase in power would become more and more noticeable before he was anywhere ready to deploy. It was better to do one major power surge that even if noticed, wouldn’t give anyone time to investigate before they were loaded up and ready to go.

He found his way to the main control center and started up the computer there. After a few minutes of going through the settings, he found the one to block outgoing transmissions or signals. He felt a bit of a relief now knowing that even if the suit tracker came back online, Sidious wouldn’t be able to find it. He half thought about making this battle station his base of operations for awhile since it could disguise his location and had plenty of defense mechanisms. The problem was, as soon as he used these old droids against the empire, Sidious would probably have all the remaining separatist equipment or resources searched.

It was frustrating to know that pretty much every idea he had only gave him one shot at whatever he was trying to do. Then he’d have to keep moving and come up with another idea. If he became too predictable or used something too often, Sidious would be able to track his movements too easily. But regardless of whether or not he could use the droids for future battles, he was going to take several of them with him until he was fixed up enough to fight for himself. Those would be his personal bodyguards and once he upgraded their battle tactics and capabilities, they’d be enough to keep bounty hunters and inquisitors off his back. 

He sat down at the command console and went to work planning. He researched the medical station, trying to re-familiarize himself with the Ryndellia system it was in. The planet Ryndellia that was nearby, was inhabited, but not one yet brought into the empire as far as he knew, so that wouldn’t be a useful target. Because of the Kaliida nebula, it wasn’t a strategic location for an imperial base, but it likely could still be used as a secret medical facility. 

He sat back as memories washed through him again. For so long he’d been able to just push everything aside but now as Anakin was coming back into play, random things triggered a rush of emotions and thoughts he’d forgotten. Or tried to forget anyways. The Balmorra run, the fight against Grievous and the malevolence. The battle for this station before. He held up Ahsoka’s lightsaber. She’d been there too. As eager and optimistic as she always was. At least until they’d gotten into the nebula with the neebray mantas flying around. 

But then his mind drifted further, to Naboo that was nearby. To those sweet days by the lake, in the fields, with _her_... with Padmé. He shook himself. No, he couldn’t do this. The sorrow would overwhelm him. But that did give him an idea. 

If Naboo was nearby, what better way to get the Emperor’s attention than attack his home planet? Padmé would never forgive him, but Padmé was dead, so it didn’t really matter anymore. He might not be in good shape yet, but he was ready to send a very clear message; this was war. He would not go quietly. He would not lie down at his feet. He would not become his slave again. He would fight back, and he would win. Somehow, someway. But unlike the galaxy spanning war before, this one was personal. And once Sidious was defeated, all conflict would cease.


	6. Chapter 6

He sat forward and stared at the screen. There was a weird trickle of nostalgia as he saw the carved and elegant stonework of the streets of Theed. The larger than life statues and golden detailing. All the climbing plants and columns. He closed his eyes for a moment just to breathe. Naboo would rebuild, they had the wealth. It wasn’t pretty to turn it into a warzone, but it didn’t matter. If it helped him survive then it made it possible for him to honor Padmé by destroying that which killed her. He didn’t have attachment to places. Naboo was beautiful but all his memories of it were tied only to her and she was gone.

He studied the image and the battle plans and maps on the other screens. It had taken over a week to get everything organized and planned. He only hoped it would all play out in his favor. He got the signal that the commando droids were in position. Excellent, they were the first round of the attack. He had about 50 of them that had infiltrated Theed without raising any alarms, blending into the rich scenery as service droids, no one would look twice. 

He took a deep breath. “Begin the attack,” he said through the comm. 

“Roger, roger,” replied the one he was watching. He would observe and coordinate the first two waves, then they’d be on their own to keep the imperials occupied so he could take his group to the medical station. The droid signaled to the others, then took position to watch. This one was the leader, his master controller and his eyes on the ground. For now, it was the observer, forwarding his orders to the others. 

He shook his head as one of the commando droids bumped into two stormtroopers who proceeded to yell at it and then complain, turning their backs. Their mistake. The droid stepped over their bodies and headed towards another group of troopers in the courtyard. While he dispatched the patrols, several others disappeared into the imperial command center near the palace. Once the bomb was in place, he pressed the trigger to start the countdown. 

Then he summoned the standards on stahps. It wasn’t until they went whizzing by that the people started realizing something was going on. They sped down the main streets, shooting at any imperial targets living or resources. When they hit the main plaza, the imperial command center exploded and that’s when all hell broke loose. As people ran in all directions, waves of droids emerged from all corners of the city, shooting mainly imperials and anyone that was stupid enough to run into the crossfire. He didn’t have time to care about the civilian casualties.

He’d programmed the droids to focus only on imperial targets, but he’d also left them the ability to make the judgement call if non imperials got in the way. Their primary objective was disruption in every way shape or form. Keep the imperials busy for as long as possible. 

His observer droid moved from rooftop to rooftop following the brunt of the activity and giving him additional angles to keep track of what was going on. As stormtroopers and droids began an all-out war in the streets, he pressed the button to send in the heavy artillery. Landing that had been fun, disguised as a transport ship the imperials above hadn’t given them a second look. Why would they though? Most of the people that would’ve recognized separatist ships were long dead from the war before. If you have the right codes, anything can pass inspections. It was one thing he’d noted early on in imperial operations. They depended not on visual identification but on codes and electronic signals. 

In some ways, that could be more efficient as only licensed vessels should have approved codes. But in other ways, it was an extremely stupid oversight that was often exploited both by the rebels, and now by him. That was some of the reason he was certain the Jedi behind the growing rebellion had been trained at the temple and was not a new user coming into their power. They knew how to bypass imperial security by using the code system against them. And how would they know that unless they’d worked side by side with the clones that had invented them?

The incoming spider droids and tanks attacked imperial facilities and crumbled many buildings as they tore through the city. The whole battle heated up as his observer droid looked up and zoomed in on incoming troop transports. Finally. Had he still been working for the empire; he’d have been displeased by their response time. Though in fairness, why would they have expected an attack on a place like Naboo?

He could almost hear Sidious’ reaction to the report. But no, he wouldn’t react in anger. He’d hide his outrage; he’d channel it into something else. So now it was his turn to go into battle. His droids had done the first part. Considering how many commandos he had running around, he had no doubt that would keep them busy for awhile. Especially after he’d reprogrammed them to learn tactics utilized against them as they fought. Though hilariously, that might actually benefit the stormtroopers since they were such terrible shots.

He gave the order for his observer droid to continue the assault and shut off the video feed and connection. Then he brought up the leader of his second group, the ones that were about to storm the medical station. They were currently a brief jump away, hidden by the nebula.

“Begin the sweep,” he ordered. “Jam outgoing communications so they can’t call for backup.”

“Roger roger,” the standard replied. He’d had a thought to paint them blue and white for old times’ sake. But he hadn’t had the time, or the materials. Besides, the clones, the 501st especially, were better than droids and he didn’t want to watch them fall around him once again. Even just the thought made him ache over his fallen friends. No, it was better to let the droids be what they were, a means to an end.

He gave them a head start. Waiting for confirmation that the facility would be theirs. And then he had this thought, that Sidious might suspect Naboo was a diversion, especially since he himself hadn’t made an appearance there. He’d know, and he had to move fast. The other imperials might not figure it out, but Sidious would for sure. He couldn’t wait for the all clear. 

He leaned forward and jumped the short distance to the station, docking near the upper ring. With his few magnaguards at his side, he disembarked the ship. He told two of them to guard it and the other two followed him into the station. There was devastation everywhere since it hadn’t actually been abandoned after all. But by the dead bodies, he could tell at least his attack on Naboo had been successful in one way as it seemed to have left the facility minimally guarded. 

He went from room to room searching. If there was any way to get a bacta tank to his ship, that would be ideal. He wasn’t sure how long he could sustain carrying it with the force, but surely, they could find one empty or that could be emptied to get it there. He scoured the medical rooms, ignoring the increasing weight of death around him. It was an unfortunate side effect of this, but it was a waste to mourn them.

Except seeing the already injured storm troopers murdered in the medical facility brought back flashbacks of his times in places like this before. How many times he’d been forced to say goodbye to yet another good soldier. That time he’d thought he’d lost Rex too. Or when Ahsoka had bravely, but stupidly, took on a whole wave of those damn droids flying around like a circus performer on a stahp herself. Yes, she’d rescued Obi wan, but had nearly gotten herself killed in the process. 

Looking back now, he had a feeling losing her would have destroyed him far more than losing his master even at such an early point in their relationship, though that wasn’t what he’d thought at the time. Now, it angered him that Obi wan lived and Ahsoka did not. So apparently that part still rang true despite not even yet knowing what his master would do to him. Or knowing how important Ahsoka would become to him.

He spun around at the sound of a droid coming up behind him, slicing its head clean off before he remembered they were on his side this time. Apparently, he’d fallen so deeply in his memories he’d forgotten what he was doing. He looked up at the other droid that was standing just out of range. 

“Uh, station is clear, my lord,” it said quickly. 

“Right.” He straightened and pulled himself together. “Patrol the corridors, watch for probes. Call me if any reinforcements arrive.”

“Roger roger.” 

Okay, now to get what he came here for. Knowing Sidious had probably already figured out the deception meant he couldn’t linger for surgery. He needed to focus on getting supplies. He ordered another group of droids to find a functioning bacta tank and get it onto his ship. In another room he found a surgical droid and ordered it to download everything it could from the computers for procedures and care before sending it back to his ship as well. 

He had this urge to just gather everything he could find but he knew adding the bacta tank meant he wouldn’t have a lot of space in his ship for endless supplies. And most of it would probably be useless to him since he didn’t even really know what he’d need. If only it was possible to plan this as carefully as the battle. But unfortunately, everywhere he went he was practically flying in blind. Despite having worked for the empire, he didn’t have access to all the available troops or staffing at every location, only ones he needed to know _if_ it was prevalent to what he was doing there.

He froze when he felt it. _Oh great_ , just what he needed. He was glad he’d put in so much effort upgrading the magnaguards. They were one of the few types of droids more effective at stopping force users. They had built in magnetics so they couldn’t be pushed or pulled around as easily and their staves were made of beskar and electrified so they couldn’t be sliced in half fighting against lightsabers. With the advanced tactics he’d added, they’d be excellent bodyguards for the opportunistic inquisitors he’d just felt arrive. 

Opportunistic, _heh_. No, he had no delusions they’d just accidentally stumbled on him. He’d been right, of course Sidious had figured out the diversion and what his real target had been. Not like it was hard, really, Sidious was responsible for the shape he was in. Of course he’d know what his early targets would be. If he managed to get out of here with the necessary items, he’d at least have a fighting chance in the future.

“Form up on my location,” he said through the comm. Drawing all the remaining droids back to him meant he could conserve his energy as much as possible. He doubted he’d get out of here without having to fight, but at least he wouldn’t have to do it alone. Any force user with a lightsaber would slice right through most of them, but it still gave him more of an advantage. 

His main concern right now, was that he’d at least gotten the minimal amount of supplies aboard his ship. Setting all of it up would be a different story. There was only one area of the ship where there was room and enough overhead space to install the bacta tank and that was right inside after the loading ramp. At least the droids would be able to work around it, but it would still require some jury rigging in order to set up a lifter for the top of the tank, a harness and everything for him. On top of that, he’d have to install hosing and get electricity to it. All of which meant diverting power and resources from other areas of the ship. But he was getting ahead of himself. He still had to deal with the inquisitors, and before that, had to make sure all the things he’d collected actually got back to his ship in one piece. 

He really wished he had more competent help than the droids right now. He’d give almost anything to have Ahsoka here. And the clones. Especially Kix... it was a shame he’d never appreciated his medic enough before. But at least the 501st would have made quick work of gathering, loading and setting up, and even better, with far fewer civilian casualties. And Ahsoka... not only would she have coordinated everything efficiently, but she’d also have his back for this fight. 

He swallowed the sudden rush of emotion, the ache nearly overwhelming him this time. He hadn’t appreciated her enough either. He couldn’t blame her for leaving. “My lord, hostiles detected on level 34,” a droid interrupted his thoughts. “Should we engage?”

“No,” he replied. “Prioritize getting these supplies aboard my ship. Clear the way and protect me.”

“Roger roger.”

He made it several levels up before the inquisitors finally caught up with them. At first, he let the droids fight them and just kept moving. He didn’t care to kill them, mainly because the retrieval was far more important than vengeance right now. Or even destruction. He didn’t want to engage them until he had no other choice and since the droids were here to be disposable, he didn’t really care how many they cut through as he tried to escape. It would be a different story, obviously, if the clones were here. He wouldn’t sacrifice them to get away. 

“Our master said you’d be a coward,” one of them shouted after him. He didn’t recognize the voice so it must be a new recruit or experiment. “The attack on Naboo was pathetic. Thousands die while you steal supplies and run.”

He spun around. “It was a means to an end,” he replied with a shrug. “Just like you.” He pulled Ahsoka’s lightsaber to his hand and ignited it, his magnadroids stepping up beside him and electrifying their staves.

“Blue?” the inquisitor scoffed. “So, you’re pretending to be a hero now? Darth Sidious will be displeased. Your lightsaber doesn’t reflect the blood you’ve spilled.”

“That’s because it didn’t do the killing,” he murmured. “Nor I, with it. But that won’t stop me from using it to spill yours.” He felt a weird twinge of regret that he’d be tainting her lightsaber today, but at least it wasn’t in cold blood.

He tried to let the magnaguards take the brunt of the fight, but this particular inquisitor was better trained than most. Something that unnerved him as the fight wore on, either that, or he was much weaker than he thought he was. Despite the better programming, he defeated one of his guards fairly quickly. The other fought hard, but was also reduced to scrap unreasonably quickly. For now, that left him and the inquisitor, and he could feel the pressure building as he struggled to keep up with him.

His body was apparently still severely handicapped from the reduced functionality of his suit and his low reserves. And it was clear, if he made it out of here, it likely would be just barely. Worse yet, there had to be another one running around. He was almost certain he’d sensed more than one. Since that one hadn’t showed itself yet, that likely meant it was trying to cut off his escape route. If he failed to get out of here with his ship and supplies, he’d be a dead man for sure. If not by their hands, by Sidious. As one of his fears was manifesting in front of him, Sidious replacing him with more powerful foes. 

He didn’t have time to think about whether or not that made sense, it was all he could do to keep up with the furious attacks of his double bladed lightsaber. But he could feel the strain on his heart beating wildly out of control. He could feel the makeshift temporary air system failing to keep up with his panting breaths, offering air only every other inhale. The awareness of that missing supply spiked him with fear and he stumbled to the side and dropped her lightsaber. 

The inquisitor brought his blade down and he stumbled clumsily out of the way and he cringed when he heard something crack. It had to have been one of the devices on his belt or the control panel itself. What did it matter though? They weren’t working anyways. Though obviously more damage meant more things he’d need to repair. The inquisitor swung again and he grabbed the beskar staff from his downed magnaguard and barely got it up in time to block the blow. 

The angle strained his shoulders and he weakened more as the inquisitor pressed their body weight into him. He glanced to the side and saw her lightsaber near the other wall and for some reason he was reminded of one of Ahsoka’s favorite disarming moves. He dropped his elbows to the floor, causing the inquisitor to lose his balance and he kicked up hard at him, flipping him over his head and some distance down the corridor. 

Before he managed to get up, he heard a distinctive sound that made him drop back down and cover his head out of instinct. The droidekas stopped rolling, popped open, turned on their shields and immediately sprayed their repetitive blaster fire over his head towards the inquisitor. He huddled there, letting their cover fire give him a minute to catch his breath and waited for them to pass by so he could use their shields to protect himself as he got back to his feet.

“Droids! Status?” he demanded in his comm as he grabbed her lightsaber and went running down the corridor the other way so he could loop back to his ship from the other direction.

It was demoralizing to have to run from someone he should have easily been able to beat, but what choice did he have? It was clear he couldn’t win in this condition and he wasn’t ready to be dragged back to Sidious dead or alive. 

“The supplies have been loaded aboard your ship, my lord,” one of them replied. 

“Good, now defend the ship at all costs.”

He skidded around the corner to another inquisitor standing there. As he’d expected, there’d been more than one. Except this time, he didn’t have any droids to back him up. He recognized this one though. 

He straightened. “Ah, Seventh sister. Are you here looking for a promotion? I’m sure you remember what I can do to you.”

“I remember quite clearly, Lord Vader,” she replied coolly, “which is why I volunteered for this mission.”

“Well, I’m afraid your vengeance will have to wait, because I’ve got a more pressing appointment,” he said, rolling his eyes. Why did he never learn that changed the settings in his HUD? 

“You’re right. Your master is expecting you.” She charged at him and he spun out of the way trying to blink his HUD back to a useful mode. 

“I no longer have a master,” he rasped through gritted teeth. “And you can tell him that if you survive this fight.”

At least the Seventh Sister was slightly less powerful than the other one, though her ferocity and taunts were still on point. He was hoping he could overpower her better. Though each opportunity to do so, he was met with another strike quickly. He felt less fear with her, even though he was still aware of his failing body and his draining stamina. She was familiar, he knew her fighting style, her strengths and weaknesses, since he’d once been her instructor. And even though she seemed stronger now, most likely from his frustrated perspective, he could exploit that.

It was still taking more energy than he could spare however, to fight his way past her and if he didn’t get out of here soon, he wouldn’t be able to at all. He ducked under her swing, spun around and pushed her back, letting her trip over his outstretched leg. She hit the ground hard sliding for a bit. He didn’t even take the gloating moment because he was starting to feel lightheaded from all the exertion. 

He turned away, and ran as fast as he could the rest of the way to the ship. He could hear her behind him, hear her gaining. The corridors were starting to blur before him as he turned right, then left. Occasionally throwing something in her path to slow her down. He wasn’t even sure after awhile if he was still heading in the right direction. 

But finally a door opened and he stumbled into a room full of droids. He felt delirious as his breath caught in his throat and he dropped to his knees. This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to fail after all. He put his hands up without thinking as the blasters started firing. Everything started going dark around him as he gasped for air. He couldn’t believe the droids would finally get him.

“Ahsoka,” he rasped. “Help me...” He reached towards her, but that was the last thing he remembered clearly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts*

It was a small burning sensation at first, but then he felt the crackle of electricity as it ripped through him. “Argh!” he screamed, though his voice barely gave away the depth of his pain. His eyes popped open as he felt his whole body slammed back into something. His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see. Everything was dark and blurry. He felt the burning sensation again and instantly tensed expecting a repeated pulse. 

He panted as his skin sizzled, or at least that was what it felt like. He wasn’t dead, but this felt reminiscent of Sidious’ torture. He tried to clear the heavy fog in his brain to make sense of what was happening. He heard beeping, but he couldn’t tell if it was machinery or binary. He barely felt the third shock since his mind seemed to be drifting away again. 

But then he saw her face fill the darkness in his eyes. “Ahsoka?” He tried to lift his hand to touch her. If he’d moved it, he couldn’t feel it. 

“Hang in there,” the vision replied. Except it felt muted, distant, warped. 

He sat up in a panic. His ship slowly came into view as though his heavy lids hadn’t been open this whole time. He dropped his gaze to Q-9 beeping frantically at him in concern. That’s when things finally started clicking back into place as though the lights were coming back on. 

He was alive. He hadn’t been captured. It wasn’t Sidious that had him. Or the inquisitors. The two magnaguards that had been guarding his ship were there, the surgical droid, his medical droid and Q-9. He felt a sinking disappointment. But no Ahsoka. What had he seen before blacking out? He’d been so sure it was her. He must have been confused, low on oxygen, and hallucinating, apparently. _Duh, idiot_ , he scolded himself. _She’s dead, remember?_ Even if she wasn’t, how the kriff would she have known to be there right then just to save his sorry ass one more time?

He dropped his head in his hands and sucked in a breath, ignoring everything else for the moment. He’d wanted so badly to see her, he’d convinced himself he had. There were no words for how pathetic he felt right now. Was it wrong to want her here? To miss her that much? And why did it keep coming back to her? He wasn’t even thinking about Padmé as much. If he could bring anyone back from the dead right this instant, it was Ahsoka and he didn’t know why. Shouldn’t he want his wife more? After all, everything he’d sacrificed had been for her, to save _her_. 

He ignored the droid and laid back down, rolling to face the wall. He needed a few minutes to recover. Everything was so uncertain right now, so unknown. But knowing that in his most desperate hour and deepest delusions, he’d reached out for only Ahsoka made him question everything. And he didn’t know how to explain it away. Was it just a matter of knowing that if Ahsoka were here, she’d take care of him, and everything else? That he knew she’d just be in charge and he could relax and they’d survive like they always had? Or was there more tugging at him?

Admittedly it didn’t really make sense in that moment where he’d thought he was going to die, to wish for Padmé. Not because he didn’t want to see her of course, but rather her being there, right then, would have meant she was in danger too. If he couldn’t have taken on the inquisitors or the room full of droids by himself, how could he have expected her to do it? She wasn’t a force user. So in that way, Ahsoka _was_ the more logical choice in that scenario. She had the skills, the determination and the power to win even where he might not. He knew that because he knew what she was capable of. 

And of course he wouldn’t have reached out for Obi wan, that would have been pointless. Even if there was a tiny blossoming ache to find him again, the last time he’d reached out for him, he’d left him to die. So logically, no, he wouldn’t have reached for him _or_ Padmé. But even as he tried to explain it away, he felt something and wanted to hang his head in shame.

He hadn’t reached for Ahsoka because of logic or reasoning, he’d reached for her out of loneliness. He’d reached for her in the knowing that if she were here, she’d fix this. Some how, some way, she would. She could. _Only_ she could. He felt around for her lightsaber and brought it up to his chest. 

Maybe he was going about this all wrong. He was so desperate to not be Sidious’ slave anymore that he believed he had to keep running if he didn’t want him to use his power. But there was another way out, one that wouldn’t stop Sidious in the physical sense, but would at least not grant him his power. He shifted the lightsaber so it was pointed at his chest. Death sounded really good right now. Eternal rest, no more mourning, no more suffering, no more memories or misplaced hope. No more suit, no more hopelessness, no more embarrassment, no more fear. Nothing, except _peace_. 

He slid his thumb to the power button and closed his eyes. He had every reason in the world to do it and not a single reason not to. His thumb hovered over the button, and then finally he dropped it. He wanted to, but he couldn’t pull the trigger. He was very possibly the only person still alive that could stop Sidious and even if he didn’t really believe in the greater good anymore, could he really be that selfish? To doom the galaxy for eternity under a Sith and their future generations of evil? He was responsible for the power he had, he should be the one that took it away. 

He brought the lightsaber up in front of his face so he could look at it. He was confused by how important Ahsoka and his memories of her had become to him as he struck out on this journey on his own, but he’d still promised her he’d fix this and he couldn’t give up yet. Especially since even his visions of her were telling him to hang in there, to keep going. And Ahsoka, despite her determination, was probably the only one that would have understood his desire to quit. So if she was still somehow encouraging him to keep going, then he must. 

He took a deep breath and sat up again, focusing on Q-9 and trying to make sense of what his astromech was telling him. He reached out and put his hand on its flat top. “You did good, buddy,” he murmured. “Thank you.”

The droid beeped elatedly and proceeded to tell him what was going on. Apparently the magnaguards had carried him aboard the ship after he’d passed out, and Q-9 had gotten it up and running, getting them out of there before the inquisitors had recovered from the immense droid barrage. They’d escaped, but the inquisitors had survived last they knew, which meant all of what happened there would get reported back to Sidious. 

Well, if he’d managed to get out of there with the supplies and the bacta tank, it was still a victory even if it was a cowardly one. He got to his feet and looked around. Heading first to the cockpit to find out where they were going and how much fuel they had left. 

He saw that Q-9 had programmed the nav computer to head back towards Tatooine, which made sense, it was the only place in his memory banks. But since he couldn’t risk returning there, he had to come up with a better plan. Burning fuel by constantly being in hyperspace was going to be a problem, so he needed to find a place where there was no immediate danger so Q-9 could focus on keeping the tracker disabled or jammed. Or better yet, maybe the surgical droid could get it out of him now. 

They had enough fuel for another day of traveling so first thing was first. He needed to tell the nav computer to go somewhere not so remote they won’t be able to get to a fuel depot, but far enough away to stay in hyperspace as long as possible. He studied the galaxy map for awhile trying to find places that would avoid trouble. There was a hyperspace lane that went around the outer edge of hutt space. He followed it up. Felucia, perfect. And he never needed to land there, but if he did, they had healing herbs too that could be used for bacta tanks.

That direction might mean pirates, especially if Hondo was still up to his usual tricks, but for now it was probably the best option he had. It kept him away from the hutts and mostly away from imperials. And it was a long enough journey to keep him under the radar for awhile. And not a place the emperor would likely expect him to go.

He leaned forward and started recalculating the nav computer, then once again, pulled out, turned the ship and jumped another direction. At least with all these random jumps, they couldn’t follow him easily. 

After assuring himself the ship would be fine, but still telling Q-9 to monitor the read outs, he headed into the main cargo area to take stock of what all they’d managed to get from the medical station. 

He went through the various crates but then realized he wouldn’t really know if the items would be helpful until the droid cut him open. Something he was getting increasingly anxious about. Conditions aboard this ship were far from sterile and he doubted they’d made off with the right kind of monitoring equipment that could stabilize him if things went wrong. Which meant yet again, he’d have to focus on minimal repairs at a time.

The two biggest priorities were his lungs and his heart since repairing or improving those systems would at least get him back into fighting shape. Once there he could get bolder with his targets to get more specialty equipment to streamline the rest of it as much as possible. 

Before they could consider surgery though, he needed to get the bacta tank set up for the recovery afterwards. He had the medical droid and the surgical droid scan him completely and compare notes with what Q-9 had scanned of his equipment before so they could figure out what would need to be done. The good thing about having the surgical droid now was that it would have information on mechanical prosthetics and know how to put them together with the organic material. So it would be able to scan all parts of his body, and potentially know what needed to be done to get his heart and lungs functioning properly.

The waste systems were annoying but he could get used to dealing with those. The water tank they’d fashioned wasn’t ideal but it worked. Whatever else the suit regulated wasn’t seeming nearly as important now but he still hoped to streamline the whole thing as time went on. And even though he liked the things his helmet could do and appreciated the read outs and built in night vision and thermal modes and filters, he really wanted a new look. Every time he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he still felt like he belonged to the Emperor. 

He almost wondered if he could find some clone armor somewhere to modify for his needs. It would have to be the phase one version though, phase two looked way too much like stormtroopers for his liking. Though looking like a stormtrooper could make moving about easier, he did not want any kind of association with them anymore either. Phase one gear would be relics by now, but perhaps he could find some in wrecks from previous battles.

He sighed. Here he was planning out just his looks when he had bigger issues to worry about. Not to mention he felt ridiculous trying to recapture his life during the war or stay connected to it. It was done and gone, he needed to let it go. It was strange though, that despite him not really wanting to oppose the empire, he didn’t want to feel associated with it. He just wanted his own identity now, was that too much to ask? He didn’t know what he was anymore. It didn’t really feel like he was part of anything. He was just existing, _barely_ , out here in no man’s land. 

The only thing he even felt connected to now was Ahsoka’s lightsaber. He’d felt nothing on Tatooine except hatred, nothing on Naboo except nostalgia. The medical station had just felt like a fever dream of memories he’d rather forget. It almost didn’t feel real anymore. Was he even still alive? He’d thought about ending it, but maybe he already had? Maybe all of this was just a nightmare? Maybe he really had died in that room full of droids?

He slumped onto a crate and dropped his head into his hands. If it _was_ a nightmare, he wished he could wake up. Back during the clone wars, back when he’d open his eyes and see Ahsoka or Rex standing over him looking worried. Back when he could dream about the moment he could run back home and sneak off to see Padmé. Back when people looked up to him and followed him out of loyalty not fear. Back when him and Artoo could sit together and improve their ships or each other. Back when the worst thing he had to worry about outside the war was Obi wan’s latest lecture.

The Jedi taught that when people die, they become one with the force. That they lose all sense of self and spread out into the knowing and consciousness of the universe as a whole. But what if they were wrong about that? What if death only trapped you in this embodiment of memories? What if it felt like you were still sort of alive but not completely? What if it was like this disassociation with everything you’d once known while still tethering you to it?

He stood up in frustration and punched the wall. Even though the lower half of his arm was metal, he felt the vibration of the force all the way up into his shoulder. A trapped set of memories shouldn’t feel physical pain, right? He was going insane! He needed someone to talk to, some way to orient himself again. Everything just felt off, backwards, upside down. There, but not there. 

He half thought about going back to Tatooine after all, just to find that force user he’d felt before. Or even Owen was sounding better and better to him. But he’d made too much of a spectacle of himself last time and if any troops had remained there, he’d be noticed immediately. Maybe he should try meditating? He hadn’t done it since running away from the Emperor. Admittedly he was scared to, unsure of how much he could open up without being noticed. Unsure if Sidious was looking for him in the force, unsure if he’d be able to feel him that way. Or worse, somehow manipulate him if he did.

But meditating might give him some kind of connection with Ahsoka again. Someone that always grounded him and made him feel like things would be okay. An assurance of sorts, that he wasn’t alone or failing. He took a deep breath. That alone was worth the risk. 

After giving all his droids tasks, he headed up into the main cabin and climbed onto the bed. There was no real comfortable position to meditate in anymore so he just had to do the best he could. He brought her lightsaber over in front of him and set it down on the floor. He then settled in as best he could and closed his eyes. 

The darkness flooded in almost immediately and he had to pull out, catch his breath and try again several times. Finally, after four or five tries he was able to tune into the pulsing of her kyber crystal until it was louder than the darkness screaming around him. He didn’t really care if it gave him light, that wasn’t what he was looking for. He just needed something to grasp onto. 

Focusing on the crystal he let himself sink deeper, reaching out into the vastness and energy of the universe. _I just need a sign, something, anything, that I’m on the right path._ He let himself drift a little bit, trying to stay in the proximity of the pulsing energy of her crystal, but also trying to open up a bit beyond it. Nothing was really coming to him. The force was dark and empty. But he did feel a bit calmer, like there was a way through this. 

He drifted back towards the crystal, reaching for it instead of the darkness and pain and power he’d been seeking for awhile now. The dark side might hold more possibilities, but he did kind of miss the soothing flow of the light. He hadn’t always found it, even as a Jedi, but when he did... it was a good feeling. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, floating in the ring of light. Breathing easier. He missed the times Ahsoka sat opposite of him. Open to the force in her own meditations. He’d often piggyback on her light just for some semblance of rest. If she ever noticed, she never said a word. Now that he thought about it, the reason he probably kept reaching out for Ahsoka wasn’t loneliness at all. It was stability. Despite her having been the padawan learner, she’d been strongly rooted and far more balanced than him. And maybe he’d become dependent on that steady something to hold onto. So much so that even when she wasn’t here, he still tried to imagine that she was just to feel that security again. Since he couldn’t have her here, he was using her lightsaber, her memory, to stay level or to get level rather. 

It was embarrassing to admit, even to himself alone in a room, that he depended on his _student_ to keep him grounded. That in all his power as the chosen one, if that’s what he really was, he was useless and terrible without that steady guiding hand. That’s when it had gone downhill after all, when Ahsoka left. He blamed her for that. Even if he understood now why she’d want to, it still hurt that she had. It still angered him that she’d been so selfish, so dismissive. She’d abandoned him and look what happened!

He gasped for breath and then heard the lightsaber hit the far wall. He shook himself out of the anger before he broke it. It was the only one he had now. He’d forgotten the other one on the shuttle on Tatooine. Plus even in his anger, he didn’t want to lose that connection to her, to it. Right now it was all he had. Nothing good or useful would come from destroying it.

He gave up on trying to meditate and headed back out to the cargo area. It was time to stop thinking and get something useful done. There was way too much to do if he was ever going to bring down Sidious and wishing wouldn’t bring anyone back. This was his life now, there was no other option. He’d better get used to it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! (My gift to you is more angst lol)

With the help of the magnaguards, he’d managed to get the bacta tank assembled. It had taken him several hours to put together a hoisting mechanism that would lift him up through the structure of the ship move to the side and lower him into the tank. Harder than that had been creating a harness sling that could hold his weight without covering too much surface area so the bacta gel would actually be useful. After that, he’d had to figure out how to reroute systems in the ship so it would even turn on. Then he’d had to cut a hole in the refresher piping so that he could run a hose from there to the tank in order to fill it.

While the medical droids oversaw the mixtures and got it up and running, he’d had to rest and refuel. He was way behind in nutrients, as he felt horribly sluggish. The food he’d prepared before wasn’t terribly filling, and most of it had been heavy and fatty. He doubted it had much nutritional value. He was stiff from lack of exercise. He was tired constantly from his suit’s insufficient output of air. And really, he was low on sleep as well. Though that part was a fairly normal state of affairs. 

By the time they’d gotten everything setup and he’d had a chance to rest, they were only a few hours away from Felucia. He was debating whether he should do the surgery now or wait until they got into the system and dropped out of hyperspace. Waiting meant drifting on low power and in a well-known territory for pirates that was a bad time to be out of commission. But doing it now meant he might not be recovered enough to handle the ship when it came out of hyperspace. And neither option gave him much time in the bacta tank, which was the one thing he most desperately needed right now. The bacta gel mixture would carry nutrients he was currently missing in his diet and he’d be able to relax into a more restful state for healing without the same fear of breaking things. 

After pacing around for awhile, he decided to go ahead with it right away. He instructed Q-9 to man the ship. Once out of hyperspace he was to fly it out of the main lanes, lower the power for everything but essential systems, keep his suit tracker disabled and stay alert for pirates. The magnaguards were to also be on alert, should Q-9 not be able to get them away before potential boarding, they were in charge of protection but also weapons if they got close and were detected in time. As for him... he was not looking forward to this. 

He felt unsafe, anxious, paranoid. He was afraid of them putting him out for surgery but squirming about from the echoes of pain before. But if all went well, once recovered from this, he’d be better able to fight his own battles again. He didn’t really have much of a choice, to be honest. It was either try and get fixed or live half a life for however long he had left. And half a life wouldn’t stop Sidious, it couldn’t even beat the inquisitors. This was his only option if he wanted any chance of escaping completely. 

After double checking all his droids knew what to do, he took off his helmet and was hooked up to the face mask designed to keep him stable during surgery. After removing as much of his suit as he could manage, he laid down on the pathetic little medical bed and tried to calm himself down. 

Once he’d managed to find his calm by imagining Ahsoka there with him, he gave the medical droids the go ahead. He tried to focus on breathing, tried to out will the pain. He hadn’t felt much of the cuts that had gone through his scarred and burnt flesh, but he definitely felt it when they went deeper. He curled his fists and clenched his teeth, but still couldn’t hold in the cries of pain as they cut through muscle and moved his ribs. 

It was so bad at one point the whole room spun and then he felt a needle in his arm. No... they weren’t supposed to put him out! This was wrong, he needed to be awake! What were they doing? Had he made a mistake letting them operate on him? They couldn’t possibly have loyalty to Sidious, could they? He tried to fight the drugs, but everything faded out before he could mount much resistance.

He couldn’t see anything, but it felt like he was floating. The sensation on his skin was cool but not unpleasant. He couldn’t open his eyes or move but he didn’t feel immediate danger. He drifted a bit; not like he was fully conscious. He could feel the familiar skin crawling darkness, it seemed to pulse around him like constant rippling waves. The emptiness was familiar too, that’s all the force ever was anymore. Well, it was empty of familiar things anyways. 

There was no more light from the people that had often shared theirs. Even though he knew Obi wan was still out there, their connection had been severed. He didn’t know exactly when that had happened but probably during their fight on Mustafar. Obi wan had sliced it at the same time he’d sliced off his limbs. There was a wall there now, a crafted blockade between him and what he’d once had. It didn’t matter. It was as dead as those missing parts. Ahsoka’s absence stole a larger chunk of him though. That half was gone but not as carefully boarded up. 

Sometimes it felt like he sat there in meditation, staring at that space, praying she’d reappear and all would be fine again. Maybe he needed to block it up too. Maybe it was time. He shook his head after a moment. No, not yet. He hated the gaping hole, but it was better than nothing at all.

He wished he could feel Padmé but that had only ever been when she was close. They’d been connected but never really in the force. At least not a two-way connection like he’d had with his master and his padawan. That wasn’t really possible with non-force users. He tried to drift into memories of her, but nothing happened. Every time he thought he got close, everything felt twisted and heavy. He couldn’t mourn her. He couldn’t acknowledge her death. He couldn’t accept her absence. All he could do was ignore it. To divert his thoughts whenever they invaded. But sometimes it felt like a losing battle. Like thoughts of her were as necessary as oxygen. To have gone from thinking about her constantly to never thinking about her at all, was like going from Tatooine to Hoth. The difference so extreme your whole system goes into shock. 

That’s what it had felt like when Ahsoka left too, despite the fact he’d never thought about her that much. He’d gotten so used to her being there, to never having to say certain things. To them being so in tune with each other she could anticipate his needs before he said it. To navigate battles and other dangerous situations with just a nod, or better yet, the absolute faith she’d be right where she needed to be when she needed to be there. A time when he could keep moving forward and focus on the objective because he trusted her to have his back, to cover the rear, to pay attention to the surroundings so he didn’t have to.

It was a wonder now that he thought about it, he hadn’t been killed in the battles following her departure. It had taken so long to readjust and pick up the slack. So long before he’d remembered she wouldn’t be there, and all those sides were now exposed. He’d depended on her too much, apparently. How stupid he’d been to believe she’d just always be there.

That was the part that hurt the most if he was honest with himself. It wasn’t that she left, or that she’d had reasons to. He couldn’t blame her for that really, the council had been wrong, what they’d done to her, unforgivable. But it was her never telling him _why_ she had to leave. It was the empty chasm between them, the uncertainty, the paranoia that followed. Ahsoka had been the one person, from the first day she’d appeared in his life, that he could count on. Maybe he hadn’t known it then, or couldn’t have known it, but he could look back and see, that everything she’d ever done had proven time and time again that she would be there. _Always_. 

She’d sacrifice herself, she’d disobey orders, she’d face insurmountable odds to get back to him, to rescue him, to be there for him. And then after all that... she just left. No explanation, no promise to keep in touch, no word from her for almost a year. Not even an apology. It had felt like she’d just stopped caring about him altogether. It had felt like he no longer mattered to her, not even a little. And it had left him questioning the trust he’d put in everyone if his most faithful friend could just cut him out like that, then they all could just as easily. 

That maybe everything he thought he had with any of them was just an illusion, only further proving the fear that lived inside him, consuming him day in and day out; everybody would leave him eventually. Nobody could ever love him as much as he loved them. _Everybody dies, Anakin. It is the way of things_. Obi wan’s words never comforted him then, they still didn’t now. No, not everybody dies. At least death doesn’t have to be the end. 

Sidious had promised him it wasn’t. He’d believed him not because he’d been so desperate that he _needed_ to, but because he’d seen that possibility for himself. Memories of Mortis drifted back through his consciousness. Ahsoka had been dead, he’d felt her cold body, seen the glassy death in her eyes. She was as gone as his mother that had died in his arms. But then the father, the daughter, together they’d brought her back. They’d given her life again, they’d healed her. And not in some dark, twisted way. That had been her death, but not her resurrection. Nor had it been just a temporary promise. Had it not been for Jedi purge, Ahsoka likely would have lived out the entirety of her lifespan as she would’ve before her death on Mortis. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it _could_ be done. But he _had_. And that alone had opened up the possibility that he could save Padmé the same way, though hopefully before she’d died in his arms. How great a hope that was!

But because of what Obi wan had done to him on Mustafar, he hadn’t been able to finish his instructions from Sidious. He hadn’t been able to complete the preparations. He hadn’t been able to get back to her in time. She’d died somewhere he couldn’t get to her, couldn’t find her. And he’d been too late. Sidious had told him the window had passed, the chance to save her now impossible. There were no words to describe the hatred he felt for Obi wan’s interference. How his misguided beliefs had destroyed his only chance to save her. Nothing could bring her back now; nothing could make him forgive Obi wan either. He blamed Obi wan for keeping him away from his mother too. For trying to even stop him from saving Ahsoka on Mortis. All his worst losses came from his master, how could he have ever looked up to him? How could he have truly thought Obi wan had cared for him? All he’d ever done was get in the way.

He shook angrily as the hatred swamped him, shoving out the calm as violently as an electrical storm. His eyes snapped open as the darkness overwhelmed him. _Yes… my friend, remember who you are…_

_No!_

He gasped as his ship slowly came into view. His eyes burned at the realization he was floating in the bacta tank and the gel touched his eyeballs. He shoved out the dark thoughts and built his defenses back up as best as he could. Of course Sidious had been waiting for him in the force. Hopefully he’d managed to close him out before he’d gleaned any information out of him about where he was or what he was doing. He was going to have to be more careful about that; learn how to meditate more shallow or depend only on her lightsaber crystal to keep him floating out of the darkness. Opening up to those feelings meant that Sidious would be able to sense him, so even if he got rid of the tracker, he could still be located. 

He tried to focus on breathing so he could make sense of his environment again. He remembered being on the bed, he remembered the droids about to operate on him. He remembered the panic that they put him under against his orders, but to see that they’d moved him to the bacta tank, he hoped that meant they’d at least done what they were supposed to in fixing his heart and lungs. Though angry they’d done something against his wishes, he was admittedly grateful to have not had to be awake through that again. The panic had stemmed mainly from realizing too late that both of his medical droids were imperial, and he’d not given any thought to whether or not they somehow had loyalty to the empire programmed into them. Something he made a mental note to check when he was put back together.

As far as he could tell, once he managed to get used to having his eyes open in the mixture, nothing was out of place. His magnaguards were within view. He didn’t see Q-9 so he assumed he was still manning the ship as he’d been told. There were no pirate faces looking back at him, so that was a good sign at least. There was nothing within range that could tell him what time it was now though, so he couldn’t orient himself that way to gauge how close they might be to Felucia or if they’d already made it there. 

He looked down and saw that the droids had removed all his limbs before putting him in the bacta tank. That was normal, but he didn’t like the sudden feeling of helplessness. His main anxiety stemmed from not feeling like he was in control of the situation. If the medical droids were loyal to the empire, it didn’t really make sense for them to fix him properly but until he was back in his suit, he couldn’t be sure they actually had done anything to improve him. Though he did feel like his heart was beating more regularly than it had been. And other than the shock from the overwhelming darkness, it didn’t feel like he was gasping for air constantly. Was it too early to feel hopeful things were finally turning around for him?

There was residual pain from his chest where the droids had cut him open, but the healing gel of the bacta tank was mostly soothing it. He hoped the force could heal him faster than the normal recovery time. That was one advantage they’d desperately needed during the war. But without a force healer, there would still be more than a day or two. 

His eyes landed on the regular doctor droid as it stopped in front of the tank and took his readings. He signaled to it to get him out and it nodded. A little while later, he was sitting back on the bed, his limbs reattached, the suit put back on. The droid informed him of what they’d done and how the surgery went, prescribing a few more times in the bacta tank while also informing him, they’d need more ingredients for it for future soaks. So apparently it was a good thing he’d planned to come to Felucia after all. 

He headed into the cockpit, trying to power through the residual pain now that he was up and moving again. He felt a little weak and tired, but otherwise better than he had for awhile. He still wasn’t sure if he was up to a full-on fight with any inquisitors but at least he felt more like he could handle pirates if necessary. One major difference he noticed right off the bat was that either the suit was giving more air, or his lungs were now processing it properly. Moving about didn’t wind him so much and his limbs didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore. That was really good news. Now if that held up under strenuous activity, he’d be able to make better strides on improving his suit and getting his whole body into better shape. If nothing else, at least he had a fighting chance again.

They landed on Felucia twenty minutes later, having apparently been adrift for awhile. Q-9 surprised him by having handled everything he’d instructed. It wasn’t Artoo, but he’d do for now. At least he could follow orders unlike the doctor droids. The last time he was here had been during the war. He remembered the way they’d tried to teach the locals to fight back against the pirates. He’d assume Hondo would have learned his lesson that day, but anything could have changed since then. At least it didn’t appear to be under imperial control; _yet_.

He didn’t have any money or anything to trade for the ingredients, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to threaten anyone. Or give them any reason to report his presence to the empire. Last time there’d been bounty hunters here too, hopefully the farmers had become self-sufficient enough to not need bodyguards anymore. 

They’d landed some distance away from the nearest community and he’d instructed the magnaguards to stay with his ship. While he wasn’t super confident about handling opposition on his own, he wanted to stretch his legs a bit and move freely. Since running away from the Emperor he hadn’t had a chance to just open up to his environment and remember how to be his own person again. 

If he remembered correctly, one of the last battles of the clone wars had happened here, maybe he could find some clone armor too. He hadn’t wanted the droids to accompany him for another reason though, he didn’t know if droids could respond the same way as people at seeing fallen brethren, but he wouldn’t chance it. With their new, more intelligent programming he’d installed, there could be unexpected side effects. Besides, he was tired of feeling like he needed to have protection, for as powerful as he was supposed to be, it made him feel weak and pathetic. And on a side note, the constant mechanical grinding sounds as they moved around him made him feel like he was slowly going mad. 

That alone made him wonder how Dooku, Grievous and Ventress had ever put up with the droid armies for such a long amount of time. Or it just agitated him more because of the sensitivity of his suit and not being used to the sounds. He shook his thoughts as he escaped the proximity of them and sunk into the force. Not like he did in meditation; this was more of a sensory awareness. 

He quieted his mind and listened, becoming aware of the moving wildlife and the distant farmers, feeling out the lay of the land and the energy of the planet. The good news was, he didn’t sense any immediate threats, like a band of pirates up to no good. Other than the vibrations from heavy footfalls of giant creatures some distance away, he felt mostly alone and safe. That was a welcome change to his experience thus far. It was odd to him however, that Felucia had not been overtaken by the Empire, considering the valuable resources of healing herbs. But he could sense that they _had_ been here at some point. That, however, did make sense because if this had been a battle near the end of the war, they’d have needed to confirm the death of the Jedi in charge here. 

He popped his eyes open and blinked through his HUD settings. He was glad that had reminded him that there could still be probes around. Good thing he had a way to track any signals coming from them so he could steer clear of them if any were detected. He used his eye movements to amplify their frequencies, so he’d have plenty of warning if they were nearby.

Speaking of trackers though, he hoped what he’d asked Q-9 to do while he was gone would prevent his suit from being tracked while he was here. The doctor droid had told them they’d disabled the tracker in him during the surgery, but he wasn’t sure he trusted that. There could be more than one or it could be made to seem like it was disabled and come back online at any time. He hated the constant paranoia about it, but he wasn’t in a position to let down his guard with that if he ever wanted to be completely free of his dark master and the empire. 

He sunk into the force again, following the echoes of battle deep into the wilderness. He was sensing something somewhat familiar but couldn’t quite place it. He didn’t remember which Jedi had been leading the crusade here, but it must have been one he’d known. He followed the strange pulse until he started seeing the wreckage of tanks and AT-TE walkers. Droid parts littered the area along with empty white pieces of armor. He sucked in a breath not expecting to be hit with such powerful emotions. 

The echoes of battle roared around him, the pain, the violence, the death. He could hear faint whispers of clones yelling orders or relaying information, feel the motivating words and the determination to survive. It sent him spiraling right back into his memories. Hearing Rex to his right, the 501st calling out to each other. The sounds of endless blaster fire, the cries of death. He blinked away the sudden rush of tears and looked around. This armor had faded yellow not blue. The 327th star legion, Aayla’s troops.

No wonder echoes of this felt familiar, he’d fought beside them several times throughout the war. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Aayla hadn’t been one of the council members, she’d been a knight like himself. In fact, she was one of the few other Jedi he really hadn’t minded being around. She hadn’t been all that much older than himself, and while a traditional Jedi, she’d had streaks of Vos’s rebelliousness. And if he remembered correctly, he owed his life to her and Ahsoka back at the beginning of the war. 

He felt an overwhelming sense of remorse as he was once again face to face with the consequences of his choices. How easily he’d forgotten how many others would be destroyed by this. Just like with Ahsoka, it clearly hadn’t occurred to him he’d ever have to face the death of those he hadn’t specifically targeted. _How stupid he’d been! How blinded by fear!_

The Jedi had failed the people on a massive scale, but had they all deserved death? It was the order, the council, their doctrine that failed, not all of the individuals inside it. Many of those, like Aayla, that hadn’t sat on the council or even desired a council seat, were not all so bad. In fact, most of their actions could be blamed on the misguidance of the leaders than on them as individuals. Aayla, like her master, Quinlan Vos, had a more out of the box view of things. Potentially she could have been a great asset to the empire if given a chance to be persuaded. But instead, he looked around him feeling the sinking sadness, she’d been murdered in cold blood by her trusted troops. Likely with her back turned. This was all his fault. 

Memories of the temple swam through his eyes, the seething rage of red and blood. He’d done this, not to her but to the others. How many had he killed with their backs turned? How many had he betrayed too? All of them... _what a stupid question_.

He dropped to one knee and bowed his head. He’d asked for a sign, hadn’t he? Some clue he was on the right path? He didn’t know if this was it, but it was definitely a sign he’d been on the _wrong_ path first. He saw a flash of metal under one of the large plants nearby. He reached into the force and summoned her lightsaber to his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning it over in his hand. “I will stop him. I won’t let him manipulate anyone else. He will pay for this... as will I.”


	9. Chapter 9

He was hearing this weird buzzing sound as he wandered back towards the small farming village, but as he flipped through his HUD settings, nothing seemed to identify it. Something flashed bright in front of his eyes and he immediately started coughing. He frantically unlatched his helmet and ripped it off, waving away the smoke and using his fingers to extinguish the small flames inside it. Oh great. He sighed in frustration and almost threw the helmet. But he managed to regain control of his anger before he did. It was difficult to breathe with it off, so the surgery on his lungs hadn’t extended up his airways yet. He really wished it would be possible to someday live without a helmet, but instead it looked like if he didn’t want this one, he’d have to find another that worked. 

He wasn’t sure why it had suddenly short circuited but now that the flames were out and the smoke had dissipated, he was forced to put it back on so he could breathe again. Without the helmet, the world was way too bright and way too loud. So much so that it was physically painful to hear or see without it. He sighed and slumped onto a half-buried supply crate in the debris field around him. Had he not taken it off, that could have been so much worse. Not only would he have inhaled too much smoke, likely the fire would have exploded if they’d gotten too close to his oxygen. He was a walking bomb, apparently. If it wasn’t so infuriating, he might have laughed at the irony that his life had started with a bomb inside his head and would end with him as one. What a stupid miserable existence!

As he turned up his nose at the still burnt electrical smell inside his helmet, he was reminded of something Threepio always said, _we were made to suffer, it’s our lot in life_. Had that simply been a random side effect of his programming or had he somehow unintentionally filled him with his own thoughts on the matter? He’d made Threepio for his mother, one would think he’d have tried to make him more positive and upbeat. But somehow the pessimism fit him and never really bothered him. Maybe because it was nice to hear someone else say the things he’d always wished he could. His mom had tried so hard to get him to keep the faith, to fill him with hope that they’d not live like that forever... but... it was hard to say his life had gotten better despite no longer being a slave on Tatooine.

There’d been good things, he supposed. It was hard to say that now. Now it was too easy to look around him and think nothing had ever been good. But there were good memories. Good moments he’d gladly live again. He just wished they’d been lasting enough to feel like more had been good than bad. Things had been good with Padmé... well, most of the time. Some of the time? When he actually got to see her. When war or politics didn’t come into it. Or stupid ex-boyfriends that didn’t know when to quit. He curled his hand into a fist before sighing and letting it drop. Without any of that, there’d been maybe a dozen or so moments, mostly nights, mostly passion and then sleep. Maybe he’d just wanted it to be good. It didn’t sound like much now.

But there’d been the clones, while not separated from the war, there’d been the camaraderie and the companionship. There’d been jokes and storytelling and silly games to unwind from the day-to-day stress of battle. There’d been the loyalty and the trust and encouraging words to get them through what each day brought. But there’d also been the death, the blood, the failure and the loss. The times it was too hard to find something good, the days they went to bed feeling defeated and unsure. 

It was weird to look back now and realize that one of the best parts of his life had been training a padawan, especially since it was never something he’d wanted to do. Ahsoka had come with light, with optimism, with hope. At first, he’d shunned the responsibility of training her, but it had become something great. A diversion from the rest of it that was so terrible. In an effort to distract her from the horror and fear, they’d invented games, they’d held competitions, they’d make jokes and have fun. At first, it had been a distraction, a sense of duty to protect a child in the middle of the war. But he’d need it too, so maybe he’d also been a child in the middle of a war. Both of them with too much responsibility thrust on them far too early. 

But Ahsoka hadn’t been a child, not really. At least not the lost one he’d been. There’d been ways she was naive and inexperienced, but it had taken her next to no time at all to prove repeatedly, she was way ahead of him. It had been obvious by her behavior that her species aged or matured much faster than humans. She was a hunter, a predator with maturity that startled even the leaders of the Separatist armies. They underestimated her, called her just a child, but they couldn’t contain her or slow her down. All too quickly she’d gone from just a gangly little thing to a wise and focused young woman. 

And he’d risen with her. Encouraging her and helping her grow had built his own confidence too. So much of that came from her eagerness to pad his ego but also the faith and trust she’d put in him and in his lessons. Too quickly he forgot she wasn’t his student as she’d stand next to him as powerful as a fellow knight. And she’d become a friend, a really, _really_ good friend. Someone he’d come to count on at every turn, even closer than the bond he’d ever had with his master.

With Ahsoka, he could be himself. He’d tried to hide things, but she’d always noticed. Despite her unrelenting curiosity, she didn’t ask, she’d just nod knowingly and immediately do something to help or distract him. He wished he could say he’d been the same for her. But clearly, he hadn’t or she never would have left. That had been the darkest day of the whole war... 

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pull himself together. He had to stop thinking. He needed to move forward, not keep taking all these backwards steps down memory lane. The past was gone, all of them dead. There was no going back. It was time to move on, focus on the here and now. Painful memories wouldn’t stop Sidious. 

He stood up and looked around. The helmet still seemed to have some electronics working but they were flickering. At least his air and food and water were still functioning. Though most of that was manual or tied to the lower half of his suit. Every so often the HUD would switch settings unprompted, but at least the buzzing he’d been hearing was gone. He brought his hand up to bonk it and only just noticed putting out the fire with his fingers had melted parts of his glove. Wonderful. 

He shrugged. Who cared anymore? At the point he just needed it functioning, not looking pretty. He moved on until he found another AT-TE on its side and decided to investigate. He opened up the hatch and looked inside. With his helmet not working he couldn’t see much. Or it kept flickering to thermal which didn’t really help him see non-living targets. He pulled out Aayla’s lightsaber since it was the first one he grabbed and held it up, using it to illuminate the inside. 

He’d debated whether or not to keep it, feeling as though he should leave it where it had fallen. But lightsabers sold for good money on the black market and he didn’t want someone else to make off with it. And maybe he’d brought it as a reminder or tribute too, and once Sidious was destroyed, he could give them all a proper burial. At least one more honorable one than their deaths. 

There wasn’t much to see inside other than the deaths of the clones that had been here, but he did see an extra intact helmet that hadn’t been worn by anyone and summoned it to his hand. These were all phase two but it might be worth taking to tinker with and see if it would be possible to either use parts from it to fix his or adapt it to his needs. Then when he found a phase one, he’d already know how to make it work. There’d been helmets all over the battlefield but those had all belonged to clones and even if their bodies had long since decayed away, he didn’t want to disrespect them in such a way. Plus, they’d all been exposed to the elements for however long it had been since the end of the war. He was losing track of time already. 

He tucked Aayla’s saber away again and continued towards the village. It was unfortunate they’d advanced the aging so dramatically on the clones because those that had survived would’ve been a great asset to the Empire. If nothing else, at least they’d hit something once in awhile. Though now that he was running from them too, it was probably better they weren’t the main soldiers anymore. He’d kept his own legion as long as he could but ultimately, they’d been sent to other projects and phased out while he’d been forced to run errands for the Emperor. As much as he’d loved his boys in Vader’s Fist, it bothered him that most weren’t following him by choice anymore. At least as a general, they wanted to be a part of his legion out of respect and loyalty. But after order 66, they’d essentially lost most of their individuality as they were forced to conform to imperial standards.

“Hello?” he called out. The village looked empty when he finally made it there, but he suspected they were hiding again. He hadn’t exactly been quiet or sneaky, so they’d probably heard him coming. “You don’t have to be afraid!” 

His voice sounded weird through his broken helmet. Like his vocalizer had also shorted out. He ducked into one of the small houses and knocked on the trap door under the rug. 

“I just need some supplies and I’ll be on my way, _peacefully_ ,” he said. 

He moved away from the trapdoor and waited. Hopefully this wasn’t going to be another ambush. He hadn’t checked the village first, but surely people still lived and worked here? It had looked like the crops were still growing outside. He’d just made up his mind to open the door to check when it lifted up on its own.

“What do you want?” the farmer asked anxiously.

“Look, I don’t have any money or anything to trade, but if you can just spare some of your healing herbs, I’ll be on my way.”

The farmer looked around. “You work for the Empire, right?”

“No, not anymore,” he said before he thought better of it. Maybe he should have lied. Maybe if they thought he did they’d just give him what he wanted.

“We don’t have anything to spare, they come and take it all. They’ve already been harassing us for not providing the numbers they think we should. It’s not our fault! The soil’s been overworked, the climate bad. All our tools need repairs, they don’t pay us enough to keep up with their demands and there’s no room to cultivate new fields!”

“Woah there.” He put his hands up to slow him down. “Maybe I can help.”

The farmer walked with him outside and pointed around at the various problems. As he listened to him, it reminded him of the problem they’d had before with pirates. But surely the Empire was wealthy enough to pay these farmers for their healing herbs? It didn’t make sense for them to demand so much without making it possible for them to meet those demands. After all, the empire had amassed great resources and were so widespread they had plenty of people committed to the machine that made it up. How expensive was it really in the grand scheme of things? These people lived humbly, other than food or equipment it shouldn’t be much cost for upkeep.

He looked over the various tools and with a little time thought he could repair them. Though ones that required new parts would be more difficult as he didn’t really have a way to get more. But clearing a new field for them wouldn’t be too difficult either since he could just slice the plants with his lightsabers and use the force to clear them out of the way. He decided to start with that since the other would require a trip back with tools and parts, but he felt it was worth it. If the empire saw their output go up, they wouldn’t notice the fraction of the crop he took for what he needed. 

He went to work clearing the field for them, using it as a way to stretch out and practice at the same time. He zoned out as he worked, focusing on his task. Some of the plants were more stubborn than others but eventually he loosed them from the ground. He piled them up around the edges as a kind of natural fence so they didn’t have to build more. Once he’d cleared the amount of space the farmer had requested, he put away the lightsabers and looked over his work. The ground was still rough and full of rocks, but that was something they’d have to handle as they prepared the soil for planting, otherwise he felt like it was a job well done, that more than earned him his small sack of ingredients he needed. 

He headed back towards the farmhouses and told the farmer he’d finished. They thanked him profusely and happily gave up the requested healing herbs, telling him it would’ve taken them months to do what he’d done in a couple hours. As he was leaving, the farmer called after him asking if he could by any chance get them fuel. Since his next stop was going to be a fuel station anyways, he agreed. He couldn’t promise he’d be back to help with the tools, but he didn’t think returning just to deliver fuel would delay him too much. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be, it was more a matter of not lingering in one area long enough to be discovered. But since he’d not scanned any probe droids and Q-9 had been tasked with blocking tracking signals, he didn’t see any reason why he had to run off immediately.

The good thing he’d noticed while working on that field was that his heart and lungs were working better under constant activity, so he was feeling more positive about his situation. Even though his helmet short circuited, he didn’t think that would take too much to fix. He assumed it had been working too hard since the supporting systems had shut down and eventually ran out of charge or overheated. Now that he had a bacta tank, it meant he’d be able to give the suit breaks and it might even be worth checking into some kind of rechargeable system for it. Much like how droids enter sleep mode to rebuild their energy. With the right parts, that could be possible. 

Once back to the ship, he handed off the herbs to the doctor droid to prepare for use in the bacta tank and then went to brief Q-9 on his idea for the fuel station. In such a public place, it would be stupid of him to make an appearance so the droid would have to be in charge of the dealings. Without a way to pay for the fuel, he was going to have to barter. But since he didn’t really have anything to barter either, the previous owner seemed to have just emptied their ship on Tatooine, it meant he was reduced to trickery. 

For now, he didn’t have much choice, but hopefully soon, he could go about this the right way. If he even knew what the right way was anymore. Did it really even matter in the long run though? So what if the fuel station was swindled out of one tank of fuel? It wouldn’t affect much of anything. And he knew these business owners, not personally, but they were all alike, running cons and dirty dealings on the side. Obi wan had once mentioned these two brothers that sold starships with just enough fuel to get to the fuel station the other one owned. He highly doubted the empire bothered with such basic criminal activity and if he did it right, no one would even be the wiser they lost one tank.

An hour later they landed at the fuel depot and he sat back in the pilot seat and let Q-9 take the lead. It would have been faster if they’d jumped, but he didn’t want to waste what fuel they had left in case they needed to jump to a different depot. He watched out the window as his droid went inside and when he saw him come back out with the owner behind him, he headed to the loading ramp. 

Q-9 was beeping dramatically, reassuring the begrudged bith that they had plenty of valuables to trade for the fuel. As soon as he made it up the ramp and looked up, he waved his hand in front of his face. “You’ve been paid for a full tank of fuel. You’ll go back inside to complete the transaction and forget what you saw out here.”

The bith stared at him blankly and then repeated his command. Then he turned around and headed back out of the ship in a trance.

“Good job, Q-9,” he praised the droid. “Now get us fueled up so we can be on our way. And don’t forget to fill this tank for the farmers.” His droid beeped obediently, and he headed back to the pilot seat.

So far, so good. Not going outside shouldn’t draw attention to them at all. As far as the other patrons were concerned, they were just another ship going about their business. He sat down and slumped back, letting his mind wander a bit, certain everything was under control for once. It had been a strange day helping the farmers, unlike before when they’d been limited by what they could do to help because of the stupid Jedi code. It had been oddly satisfying in a way, to lose himself in the meditation as he completed a basic task, for once not having to fear for his life.

Of course, that kind of drudgery wouldn’t interest him in the long term but since he’d seen nothing but action since running away, it had been a nice change of pace. It reminded him of the training sessions with Ahsoka and how for hours at a time he could just drift into this calmer state of being. She’d hung on every word, eager to learn everything he had to say. And once she got the hang of it, they’d drift into a similar state of comfortable silence and rest. Side by side, in perfect sync, they’d work through the exercises and sequences. And it was in those rare moments, he’d felt peace. 

He missed those... a lot. He’d never felt that kind of... _cohesion_... with Obi wan. Not in all their years or numerous training sessions. He didn’t know if that was the power imbalance between them, the reversed roles, or something else entirely. But he couldn’t remember ever feeling quite as eager to learn from his master as Ahsoka had been to learn from him. Or nearly as comfortable to relax into that synchronicity. He sighed. Maybe he was being too hard on Obi wan. He did miss him... maybe... a little. But he still couldn’t imagine a day he could forgive him for what he’d done, or not being there when he needed him the most. 

He shook his head. So much for not thinking. He stared blankly out the transparisteel glass that faced the depot and the attached diner. His eyes flickered to the flashing lights of the holonews on a screen inside. His helmet still wasn’t working completely but he managed to get the HUD to zoom in on it. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the news because he’d been too busy with other problems, but when he saw the familiar landscape behind the reporter, he tuned his helmet so he could hear what was being said.

His eyes widened as images of the dead farmers played across the screen. The footage specifically showing wounds caused by lightsabers and burned metal on the walls. For a moment he couldn’t process what he was hearing and seeing. This wasn’t possible, how were they dead? He’d just left them. Who had attacked them? Then he saw an image of him on the screen, head to toe in the suit Sidious had provided for him. The words blurred before him as everything clicked. The Emperor had made his power play.

It was no longer an internal affair. He wouldn’t just be hunted by imperials and a select few bounty hunters; he’d be hunted by everyone. The news claimed he’d murdered those helpless farmers. It went on to describe his brutal attack on the medical station. And despite what he was hearing, he was desperately trying not to panic, until he saw the nail in the coffin. A picture of the ship he was sitting in right now.

He could’ve sworn everybody inside instantly turned to look right at him and he ducked down out of sight before he could think to do anything else. _Kriff!_ What the hell was he going to do now? If there’d been inquisitors on Felucia recent enough to have gathered that footage after he’d left, they weren’t far away. And if any one of those people inside called that hotline, they’d be here in a heartbeat. They had to move now!

“Q-9!” he hollered as he ran down the ramp. “Close it up, get inside. Now!”

The droid beeped in confusion, trying to tell him the tank wasn’t full yet.

“It doesn’t matter, we have to go. Move, move!”

Q-9 scrambled to unhook the fuel, spilling some all over the platform as he ran back inside to start the engines, lift off and set the nav computer. He didn’t know where to go as he frantically scrolled through the galaxy map. It was still calculating when he heard the unmistakable sound.

He just barely sped off the platform before lasers hit where’d they’d just been. The resulting explosion rocked the ship and he struggled to level it out. “Come on computer! Calculate faster!” He was dodging ties and lasers, but at least this ship was fast enough to outrun them and finally he found a window and jumped. 

He slumped back into the seat panting and swearing to himself. Those poor farmers... all he’d wanted was a small portion of healing herbs and it had cost them their lives. And worse yet, it hadn’t even been because they’d skimmed from the empire’s demands. It had simply been to frame him for a massacre, so he’d be hunted everywhere he went now. And this attack certainly hadn’t felt like the emperor still cared to bring him back alive, which meant the stakes had completely changed. 

He was going to have to find a really good hiding place, or he was going to have to go on the offensive. Neither really seemed possible now. But how had they found him? He hadn’t felt anything... the tracker should have been disabled... he’d been scanning for... _oh shit_. The buzzing... how stupid could he be?

He ripped off his helmet and threw it at the wall, storming into the room next to the bacta tank and hooking himself up to the oxygen tank in the temporary med room. Sidious knew how his suit worked and what it could do, why hadn’t it occurred to him that he could use its frequency scanner against him? But instead of just change the frequencies the probe droids used, they turned it into a weapon. And it worked... probably because his suit was already messed up. 

They’d barely gotten half the tank of fuel he’d expected, they weren’t going anywhere useful so really, they were just burning it at this point. And now he had to somehow rewire his whole helmet if he didn’t want what happened on Felucia to happen again. “Q-9?” He looked around in concern. _Oh no..._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a good holiday and a happy new year!

He flew around the grey desolate surface until he found a large enough cave to fit his ship into and proceeded to land. He powered down everything but essential systems and setup the signal jammer he’d been tinkering on since leaving the fuel depot. Then he went about making the ship as inconspicuous as possible. This was it, his home for awhile.

He looked around at the bare and rocky surroundings and sighed. It was an improvement over Mustafar, he supposed... a _slight_ improvement. It didn’t really matter though. Nothing mattered anymore except stopping Sidious. He’d gotten too soft and his dark master hadn’t even hesitated to remind him of that. No more thinking or wasting time, nothing but action and building and preparing. 

Once the doctor droid set up the bacta tank for the second round, he placed Ahsoka and Aayla’s lightsabers on the floor in front of it before stripping down and letting them hook him up to the harness and lower him in. He shook off any thoughts as he fell into meditation, letting himself drift only in the light pulsing from their lightsabers. He ignored the calling darkness trying to tempt him away, and he ignored the light and thoughts and memories too. He just floated there as neutral as he could.

When the droid tapped on the glass later, he pulled out of the meditation and got back to work. He left him and the other droids to take care of the ship and outfitted once again, headed outside to explore.

Without Q-9, he was going to have to modify one or both of the magnaguards to act as servant or protocol droids. But their appearance right now was far too distinctive, so he needed to find parts to do that. Thankfully, Vanqor held just that. A relic from the clone wars, and uninhabited. But it also had the ruins of an old clone outpost that had been destroyed early on in the war and never rebuilt. He was certain he could find scrapped droids and other salvage in the wreckage since it was unlikely to be picked apart by pirates or other salvage crews. Too dangerous to risk it for things of very little value to most.

Vanqor was the home of gundarks and giant worms and other deadly creatures and pretty much anybody short of a Jedi or Sith would not survive here for any length of time. Mainly because blasters alone couldn’t penetrate gundark hides. He didn’t really identify as either a Sith or a Jedi anymore, but at least he had the force and lightsabers. It was also a place that held no value to the empire in any way, so while probes could still be a problem, he highly doubted he’d encounter any imperials.

But since he couldn’t be too careful and he no longer had the astromech to block tracking signals, he’d created a signal jammer to clear his head after escaping the fuel depot. It didn’t necessarily prevent him from being tracked specifically, but much like the battle station, kept all activity here masked. Which meant nothing could be received or sent. Not being able to listen to the news or being able to scan incoming ships kept him at a disadvantage, but right now it was more important to hide and lay low than be defensive.

Feeling a bit rejuvenated and calmer after the bacta soak, he started trekking in the direction of the ruined outpost to see what he could find. The first trip would be reconnaissance, just to see what was available and salvageable, after that, it would be work to gather parts, get them back to the ship and start putting things together and modifying droids. At some point, he was going to have to hit a place for some money so his droids wouldn’t be conspicuous when he sent them on errands. 

He stopped and ripped off his cloak, letting it flutter away in the crazy wind on this planet. He didn’t need it anymore and he didn’t want it either. He was tired of feeling encumbered by unnecessary shit and ready to start mixing it up. He hadn’t yet had a chance to look over the clone helmet, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going to work out the way he hoped. 

It would be very difficult to modify an already built helmet to be able to add a feeding tube, a straw for his water and air intake to match the bottom of his Vader helmet and neck guard. But he could probably salvage the wiring and electronics from the clone helmet to fix and improve his current helmet. Unfortunately, a specialized helmet like his would have to be built from the ground up and he didn’t have the resources, supplies or even the artisan required for that kind of equipment. He knew all about engineering and mechanics from his years of experiments and tinkering, but not how to shape and turn raw materials into something this complex. The best he could do at this point was modify it in any way he could as he went.

Someday, once Sidious was beaten, he could invest the time and energy into learning how to make something different. But that was an intangible dream at the moment, and he shouldn’t waste his energy on it. The rest of his suit could be upgraded, modified, changed as much as he wanted as long as he could find the parts, though he hated knowing his helmet would be far too recognizable wherever he went. He planned to keep his eyes peeled for a replacement, but that wasn’t the highest priority right now.

He made it to the destroyed outpost awhile later, not in as much of a hurry as he probably should be. But everything he needed to do was going to take time and preparation so he might as well be thorough in his scouting and searching. Really, much like on Felucia, he was just happy to stretch his legs and not be idle stuck aboard a ship. At least out walking around, he had other things to think about and focus on and the memories didn’t overwhelm him as badly as the hours alone on a ship traveling through hyperspace.

While he hadn’t given much thought to his choice to jump to Vanqor in the scramble to escape the fuel depot, it was a bit risky to stick around in a nearby sector. But finding out it was so close had reminded him of the enormous caves him and Obi wan had been exploring before and it gave him the idea to use them to hide his ship. At some point he’d have to make sure their current spot wasn’t in danger of attracting gundarks but for now he was certain they hadn’t disturbed enough to stir them up. Gundarks typically stayed deep within the cave systems unless they needed to come out to hunt or were drawn to loud noises or electrical pulses. With his ship on low power, they likely would even notice it and would just ignore it as though it were a part of the surrounding rocks. 

He looked up at the ruined outpost from the bottom of the hill and rested with his hands on his hips for the moment. He’d never been to this one in particular but if he remembered correctly, this was where Rex had chosen Echo and Fives to be part of the 501st. He didn’t really recall the details of that mission, but it had something to do with them showing exceptional bravery in the face of insurmountable odds. He shook his head. They’d been an important part of his legion; Rex had been right to recruit them. 

He felt this ache bubble up inside him and tried to squash it. He hated what had happened with and to the clones. From day one, they never had it easy but save for an occasional few, they never complained. They served with dignity and respect, and for all their heroics and risks, they were largely ignored by the general population. Worse yet, used by the Jedi as meat shields and sacrifices, by Sidious as a tool to gain power, and then despite all their servitude... completely forgotten and thrown away. He dropped his hand feeling the urge to punch something. 

To all but a select few, they might as well have been droids. That alone was probably his biggest grievance against Sidious’ plans to turn the republic and confederacy into a combined empire. Replacing decent and loyal soldiers with fanatical idiots that couldn’t hit the broad side of a freighter two feet in front of them. Surely there could have been a way to slow their aging, and give them incentive to stick around? Stormtroopers earned a wage; the clones had served for free. Served, _hah_. Served implies volunteering for the miserable job. They were lower than slaves. 

He took a deep breath. No point in getting angry about it now. The war was over, most of the clones had disappeared. Those that hadn’t been destroyed had slipped away to live out the remainder of their reduced lifespans. The imperial severance package; death. If not right then, hunted until you’re killed. He was right there with them now. Though he had a bigger target on his head, probably even worse than surviving Jedi. 

He wandered around the ruins making mental notes of parts that could be useful. The outpost hadn’t been very big and whatever had destroyed it had wiped out most of the core. But he still found enough parts and pieces he felt could be useful. He even found half a protocol droid which could help him disguise one of his magnaguards. 

After climbing onto what was left of the landing platform, he bent over and picked up a helmet with a blaster hole right through the forehead. Rex... he instantly felt an echo of his all too familiar clone captain. He closed his eyes and opened himself up to the residual energy here. Rex had made this shot, but why was he shooting at a fellow clone?

He tipped the helmet and looked inside. Then he held up the destroyed head of a commando droid. He’d never seen that before. The commando droids were dangerous mainly because they were fast and smarter than the rest of the separatist army. But to pretend to be a clone? That was surprising. How many could have infiltrated their ranks and they never would have known? Except... he studied the helmet again. Rex had known. He’d shot this droid dressed like a clone point blank. And it definitely hadn’t been a warning or a test shot. He’d been confident enough that the armored clone in front of him was an imposter. It made him wonder what had given it away. 

He threw the droid head to the side and shrugged. He supposed he’d never get to know the answer to that. He wandered around for awhile, lifting bigger debris and moving it to the side to see what might be salvageable underneath. He crouched down near a spot were clone armor was strewn about as though haphazardly thrown in all directions. He sucked in a breath and coughed a bit in surprise. Then he bowed his head in a moment of silence. This one had sacrificed himself to save the others. He was the reason Rex, Fives and Echo had all escaped. 

He set his hand on the broken helmet. “Thank you for your service. Your friends, they served well in your honor.” He choked a little on his words and stood up awkwardly. So much death, so much fighting, so much loss... for what? Knowing now that Sidious had played both sides from the very beginning made all of these deaths feel wasteful and pointless. To live and die for something that hadn’t even mattered in the end? What was the point? 

He used to think the republic had been worth fighting for. Now... he wasn’t sure about anything. The empire made things better for a lot of people, but there’d always be some that opposed it. But the empire, just like the republic, still had faults. It could be ruthless and unfair. Just look at what it did to those farmers, even before he’d come into the mix. Overworking them, demanding things they couldn’t provide, paying them a pittance for what they _could_ produce. Had the republic been just as bad?

Both Padmé and Ahsoka had talked animatedly about the proceedings they’d witnessed on Raxus. Supposedly the confederacy senate was much more organized and more productive than the proceedings in the often-gridlocked republican senate. Ahsoka had even gone so far as to insist, despite being led by a Sith, Dooku, every planet in the confederacy had _wanted_ to be there. Barring the planets that had been forcefully conquered by the droids, that implied they felt the separatists better met their needs and living conditions were not as bad on that side of the war. 

Did that mean then, that despite the praise the emperor got from his well-fed allies, he really was worse at protecting the people? That perhaps his politics and plans weren’t really better for people? How could he have such a high popularity rating though, if that were true? Unless everyone that opposed his agenda had been silenced... which would explain why there was a rebellion in the first place. 

Well, no ruling body was perfect, and he still felt like the empire was better than what it had been like before. With the right ruler, it could truly thrive and that’s where he came in. Until Sidious was ousted, there would be no right ruler. Because he definitely didn’t want to take his place, even if he did have some ideas for improvements to the system. 

The wind started picking up and there wasn’t much cover in the ruins, so he decided to head back to the ship for now. It was very lonely here on Vanqor but considering how his only other option for the time being was being on the run constantly, he’d have to get used to it. He refused to get attached to anything else, living or droid. The droids he had left had very little personality and he liked it that way. Q-9 had been nice but even he had been fairly bland in comparison to Artoo. He really missed his droid. If Artoo were here, half his problems would just evaporate. 

Artoo could watch the ship, disable trackers, scan his body, improve his parts, take care of business on surfaces he couldn’t make an appearance... and more than all that... Artoo was good company. In his memory banks were a lifetime of stories. He was more alive than any other droid and he really wished he was here. He had no idea what had happened to him after Mustafar. He could only assume he’d been whisked away by Obi wan just like Padmé. For all he knew, Obi wan could’ve just scrapped him out of spite. It wasn’t like his master had ever really cared for droids. And after Padmé died, why would he keep him?

He squeezed his eyes shut willing himself not to cry. There was no point. Everyone he’d ever truly cared about was gone, and those that weren’t had only betrayed him. Being emotional over it made him weak and weakness wouldn’t beat Sidious. He couldn’t get attached to anything else. It would only give Sidious more to use against him. He was on his own now, this was the path he’d chosen and there was no going back. 

He lost track of time on that desolate planet, focusing all his attention on planning and preparing. He made however, many trips back and forth to the outpost and finally came up with a way to get himself money that didn’t require going anywhere. Well... yet. He wasn’t exactly sure how this would work, but after several rounds in the bacta tank and a few additional surgeries and a few updates to his suit and helmet, this would be an excellent test. One thing he was surprised by one morning though, was the sudden appearance of a few wiry hairs growing out of his chin. At first, he’d been annoyed since he had no real way to shave it off, but then he realized what it meant. It meant his skin was healing enough to start growing hair again. He wasn’t terribly optimistic that he’d get anything more than thin patches, but it had still been an emotional realization. And a confusing one. 

He’d spent countless hours in a bacta tank, nearly every night, when he’d been under Sidious and yet, there’d never been a dramatic improvement in his condition. His master had led him to believe wounds like his just couldn’t heal and he’d be crippled the rest of his life. But now he couldn’t help but wonder if the Sith magic Sidious had imbued into his suit, wasn’t to bind him together and keep him alive, but rather to prevent him from healing enough to realize he wasn’t dependent on him. In the grand scheme of things, a few hairs was hardly anything to be excited about, but he couldn’t help it. To think that it was actually possible for some recovery even after all this time made the future more hopeful and less bleak. 

The additional surgeries hadn’t been anything major as he was still incredibly anxious about being out of commission, but they’d discovered in a routine scan that there was something wrong with one of his kidneys and some blockage in his intestines. They’d needed to investigate the problem and clear him out. His waste systems were working better now, though he still had to manually empty everything. But he’d gotten used to it by now. 

He hadn’t yet managed to get the full suit operational again, whatever Sidious had done to it in the shutdown had prevented him from fixing it completely. He had found a few parts not needed for bigger preparations that had allowed him to make some work arounds for certain functionalities. He’d been able to replace most of the melted electronics in his helmet with the parts from the various clone helmets he’d collected, so his HUD was working again at least. 

Admittedly he was kind of enjoying this break from being on the run and just working with his hands and fixing up his droid. The magnaguard that he’d modified didn’t really look like a protocol droid but at least it didn’t look like a separatist droid either anymore. The hardest part had been not weighing it down too much so it would still be able to fight if need be. He’d found a way to make sure it could still carry the beskar staff without looking too obviously like a soldier or attack droid. He’d spent a lot of time working on its programming so it could act and sound like a servant but not lose the fighting software. But since he didn’t trust any droids besides Artoo, he’d also made it possible to control it remotely so he could see what was happening while it was running errands.

When it was finally time to make his next move, he found a place far enough from his ship to no longer be jammed by his signal device and sent his droid out to setup the trap. From his out of the loop position on Vanqor, he couldn’t be sure pirates still operated in this area, but he doubted they’d been run off completely. They’d find out pretty quick as there was no way they’d pass up the faked distress call of a downed merchant ship. Thinking it was an easy payday, they'd be all over that ‘rescue’ mission.

As soon as there was a sign of them, he was going to go piss off some wildlife and bait it in their direction. He’d avoided the gundarks mostly in his time here, choosing to keep a low profile, but he’d run across them a couple of times when they came out to hunt. Those were days he was grateful he was slowly getting into better shape. It was hard to run fast with the clunky and heavy suit and limbs, but he’d still managed to mostly evade them. His main advantage, he didn’t smell like food because of his suit. the pirates, however, wouldn’t be so lucky. 

Two ships appeared barely a few hours later and as soon as they landed, he sent the bait flying in their direction. They didn’t even have time to react as several huge gundarks launched themselves at them. In the chaos, one of the ships was badly damaged since they weren’t very big compared to the creatures, but he didn’t care. He’d slipped aboard the other one before the pirates noticed and took off. 

He set the nav computer to where they’d just come from and jumped right away. Then he wandered through the ship looking for goods. He doubted these smaller craft had much aboard, but it didn’t hurt to check. He did find a crate of spice but not much else. That was fine, he’d already planned to head towards the pirate base. The problem was, he needed to sneak around and that was hard to do with his loud breathing. In better shape now though, he would be fine against a whole band of pirates, provided they don’t trick him. Which he unfortunately, had firsthand experience with. 

He found a black jacket in one crate and threw it around his shoulders. It had been a long time since he’d worn regular clothes. The jacket was tight over his heavy pleather suit and the water tank he carried on his back, but it was a nice change of pace. He’d taken off the armor pieces and the robe long ago, deciding to wear his outfit less... mystical. Though it was somewhat impossible to hide the control panel on his vest and the electronics on his belt. At least with less of that, he felt more... human again. Who was he kidding though? He was less human now than he’d thought he was when he lost his right arm. He’d thought Grievous was insane to prefer becoming a droid and now he wasn’t much better. The only difference, he wasn’t Sidious’ toy anymore. 

But unless there was a better way to keep his suit airtight without all this extra padding and armor, he’d never fully be able to wear regular clothes again. He’d never be able to strip down to work out, go swimming or even... make love. Not that he’d be able to perform well. The catheter kind of made that impossible and who would ever want to touch him looking like a burnt sausage nowadays? At least that part hadn’t been completely destroyed. The way he’d been laying in the ash had largely protected it. But it was yet another thing that didn’t really matter anymore. Why would he think he’d ever find someone else? Why did he even want someone else? Was he really that desperate?

He dropped back into the pilot seat and played with his hands. He’d been alone for awhile now, some days it made no difference. He’d pass the time in meditation as he worked on things and tinkered. Sometimes he talked to himself quietly, sometimes he imagined Ahsoka there talking to him. Sometimes when he was really lonely, he’d try to remember Padmé’s voice. Remember the feel of her hands against his skin, the heat of nights where they could forget about the world. But for some reason those daydreams never filled him anymore. They’d slowly twist inside his brain like a dagger carving holes inside his chest. He’d remember her refusal to follow him, the way she’d backed away from him, her look of fear. And those were the moments the darkness would surge; putting words in her mouth she’d never said. And even though he knew she’d never said them, they stung just the same as if she had. 

It was safer to pretend to talk to Ahsoka. Even the times he pictured her the most snippy, she never warped into one of the many demons that tortured him. if anything, those imaginary conversations soothed him. Maybe even kept him sane; well, if talking to yourself or your dead padawan could be considered sane. 

But then there were the days where the loneliness got so bad, he’d squeeze his eyes shut and try to relive the days when he had people around him that he loved. When he could command an army of soldiers ready and willing to fight for him. When even in Obi wan’s begrudging lectures, he’d pat his shoulder and say, ‘well done.’ When Ahsoka would enthusiastically follow him into whatever the war dished out and more than anything... a time when he didn’t have to be alone. When people were just a shoulder squeeze or hug away. He hated how easily he’d believed Sidious’ lies that they were all against him. He hated how stupid he’d been. Maybe some hadn’t cared as much as he had thought but that didn’t mean none of them did at all... right?


	11. Chapter 11

He was grateful when the computer beeped. He didn’t want to think anymore. He just wanted to move, to do something, to focus. He flew the ship away from the base it was aiming for, enough that he could slip into their camp without being noticed. Hopefully, they were drunk like they always were. He had to move as fast as he could. Now that he wasn’t in hyperspace, he could still be tracked. And he didn’t really care about drawing the empire to the pirate den, as long as he could get what he needed and get out of here before they arrived. 

If pirates dealt in real money, it was unmarked credits, so it would probably be better to find goods his droid could trade for legal credits. Things that didn’t scream black market or illegal gains. If the empire arrived before he escaped, he’d have more time to look around, but a harder time leaving unnoticed, and the last thing he wanted is them to somehow follow him back to Vanqor.

He’d switched out Ahsoka’s saber with Aayla’s, leaving hers back with his ship. He’d decided to take Aayla’s because he knew he was going to be doing some killing, and not in self-defense. While he hated to taint Aayla’s too, he still couldn’t bring himself to do that with Ahsoka’s because he depended on her’s so much for the small source of light keeping the darkness at bay. It was probably all just in his head and he was stupid to think that a few worthless deaths would corrupt it somehow, but it still bothered him, and he couldn’t do it. Obviously if he hadn’t of found Aayla’s he wouldn’t have had a choice, but since he had, he could use her’s instead.

He snuck into the complex in a dimly lit area, hoping not to raise any alarms. The heavy raspy breathing of his vocalizer echoed down the hallways though, so it was only a matter of time before he’d be discovered. He had two choices really, kill any pirates that got in his way and search the complex himself or threaten one until they told him where to find useful goods for trading. Neither way was particularly desirable since he was living on borrowed time. He had no doubts that the emperor was still paying attention to if or when his suit became trackable again. If for no other reason than to end the potential threat of him returning to destroy him. At least he had that part right since he had every intention of doing just that. 

And it didn’t really matter how much time had passed since he’d escaped, he was far too big of a threat to leave unchecked. What he didn’t know, though, was what Sidious would send after him or how many resources he’d spare every time there was a blip on the galaxy map that he’d made an appearance. Which meant that he needed to be primed and ready for the absolute worst-case scenarios everywhere he went. Because more and likely he’d get the elite or grand inquisitors or worse, potentially Sidious’ new apprentice that he surely now had. Considering the forces sent after surviving Jedi or potential force users, he couldn’t be too careful.

The one advantage he had here though, was that he didn’t have to hold back or abide by any laws or codes anymore. There was no lawful retribution he had to really fear in the land of criminals. Which meant he could kill as many pirates as he needed to. He was already wanted for worse crimes, who really cared if he killed a few pirates in the meantime? He no longer held to the Jedi code nor did he even really respect it enough to stay true to the way he’d been raised. All of this was just a means to an end. He would stop Sidious, or he’d die trying. There was no room in there for murder trials or judgement by laws. 

And pirates were definitely not protected by any judicial system in the galaxy. They chose to operate on the fringe which meant they automatically disqualified themselves for legal protection. To attempt to bring a case against him would require them to face their own misdeeds. And even perhaps, require there to be survivors to do so. Depending how this raid went, there might not be any. If _he_ didn’t kill them, the imperial agents that were likely already coming, probably would. He highly doubted the inquisitors would waste their time making deals with pirates if they had reason to believe he was still here. 

As he suspected so far though, most of the gang were gathered in their makeshift bar or cantina area drinking their lives away. Which allowed him to sneak through the corridors and take out any lingering guards before they could call for reinforcements. He searched every storeroom he found, looking for things that could be traded for money. They had plenty of random goods lying around, but nothing worth taking that wouldn’t raise suspicions.

In one room he found a crate of old droid parts but other than a nice-looking motivator, he didn’t really see much of use. It was starting to feel a bit like he was back on Tatooine digging through Jawa junk. These pirates had clearly grabbed whatever they thought might be valuable but didn’t really know what they could sell for profit. None of this was worth much as far as he was concerned. If he could afford to risk taking it, he was sure he would’ve enjoyed tinkering with it, but for now he needed to focus on his main objective. 

He’d explored most of the first floor, killing guards and hiding their bodies. He was about to head up to the second floor when he heard someone start shouting and a lot of footsteps headed his way. He ducked into one room, tried to quiet his breathing and just listen. Had he triggered some kind of alarm or had the empire already arrived? The voices he could make out sounded like they were looking for someone, but there didn’t seem to be the frantic action of preparing for invasion. That likely meant the missing guards had been noticed and they were now sweeping the complex. He shrugged. It didn’t matter, without a force user, the pirates didn’t have much hope of bringing him down. And they certainly couldn’t trick him into drinking anything either since his suit pretty much made that impossible. 

He continued to search through crates in the room he’d slipped into while he awaited the inevitable discovery. He found some stuff that could be sold but still wasn’t having much luck finding a big payoff. Perhaps it was time to make his presence known and find out what else they had, since sneaking around wasn’t yielding much information. It hadn’t really occurred to him though, that these pirates might not actually have anything worth stealing. Maybe the Empire had already cracked down on their dirty dealings and they didn’t have much left. Why was he starting to feel sorry for them?

He almost laughed when one of the weequay pirates opened the door to see him standing there and fell back into his buddy out of surprise and fear. He’d been on his own for so long now he forgot how intimidating this helmet and suit could be. But he couldn’t waste the time to revel in it and lit Aayla’s lightsaber before throwing it through them. He stepped over their bodies and headed down the hallway. He should have tried to get that one to talk but he’d thought that too late.

He shrugged and continued down the corridors not making any effort to hide anymore. He ran into a few more guards and tried to question them, but none were particularly forthcoming about anything and all shot first without talking. Most he easily reflected the blaster bolts right back at them and went on his way, searching for the main area where he could hear upbeat music and drunken conversation and laughter. He felt this weird twinge of jealousy. Not for the drinking or the cavalier lifestyle, but for companionship, for _friends_. Even for the conversation and the laughter. How far he’d truly fallen if the lifestyle of a pirate suddenly appealed to him.

He stood in the dark doorway a full few minutes before anyone noticed him. Too busy in their revelry to see the threat that had slipped inside. Part of him had hoped it would be Hondo’s crew because Hondo was a known quantity and just smart enough to know when to deal and when to fold. But he hadn’t seen Hondo as he’d scanned the room, in fact, despite the drunken laughter and things that should be enjoyable, he’d seen very little. It was like this group were a bare minimum of stragglers that had yet to be put down by the empire. As though they were still holding onto that small band of freedom as all their resources and livelihood dwindled away. 

Most of the noise he’d heard had come from a holoradio and several speakers set up around the room. A station meant to mimic the inside of a rowdy cantina in the outer rim. But instead of a room full of partying pirates, he found maybe a dozen or so slumped over their drinks looking miserable and broken. In fact, he half thought about attempting to recruit them instead. Maybe having pirates on his side would help work as distractions and potentially even help him locate more specialty goods. And pirates would have contacts and know places to trade for things he didn’t know where else to get.

It was almost a shame he’d already killed so many, but perhaps starting with a smaller group would be easier to manage. “Where’s Hondo?” he said finally, startling the pirates sitting around the tables. Someone shut the music off and the rest all shouted and started shooting. He deflected them away and used the force to rip the weapons out of their hands. He sent all the blasters across the room. They watched them fly by and then stared back at him.

“You should know,” one of them spat at him. “You imperial dogs have taken everything.”

“The empire is on their way here...” as soon as he said that they all scrambled in different directions presumably to make for their ships. “Hey!” He sent out a wave of the force, which knocked them over and sent tables and chairs and mugs, plates and other utensils flying. “If you want to live, you’re going to listen to me.”

They looked amongst each other and then back at him. “What do you want?”

“I want to make a deal.”

“How many creds you talking?”

“I don’t have credits-” 

“Then no deal,” the pirate interrupted him.

He reached into the force and gripped the one that had spoken by the neck, lifting him helplessly into the air. “I think you might want to reconsider,” he growled angrily. 

“Fine, fine!” the weequay squirmed, and he dropped him just before knocking him out with the force choke. 

“I’ll help you if you help me. If I get Hondo out of wherever he’s being held, your crew will help me with a few... projects.”

“Hondo isn’t worth what you’re implying,” another pirate said, though he recoiled when he turned his way.

“Maybe not, but from what I recall, you were doing much better when he was your captain.” He put his hand on his hip. “But the way I see it, you can help me and continue on being pirates when you’re done with what I need. Or you can be arrested or killed when the imperials get here. So, what’s it going to be?”

As far as he was concerned, Hondo wasn’t worth his life either, but he doubted the pirate captain would be held in a very secure complex. The empire had bigger fish to fry than one lone pirate. Or even him and some of his pirate crew. So, breaking into it shouldn’t be that hard and should be possible before more imperials swarmed on his location. 

“What’s in it for us?” another pirate asked. “Freeing Hondo means splitting profits more ways, and he always takes the biggest cut.”

“What profits?” someone else said. “At least when Hondo was here, we had something!”

“Well, if your life isn’t enough incentive, how about your freedom?” he interrupted their argument in annoyance. “I need things you pirates know where to get. Help me acquire them after I free your captain, and you’ll get any of the leftover credits along with plenty of opportunities to steal better things to sell.”

“Why not just make the empire look the other way?”

He looked up without answering, blinking into the now rain to zoom with his HUD. Just as he’d suspected, they were here. “The empire isn’t going anywhere. Follow me or die.” He turned and started running back in the direction of his ship. It wasn’t long before he heard the exclamations of the pirates that finally saw the arriving ships. 

Their delayed reaction meant he had a tiny window to escape, but if any of the imperials asked about what he’d been after, they’d no doubt squeal on him. He’d forgotten how stupid and stubborn the regular pirates were, used to dealing with Hondo instead. While he wouldn’t go so far as to call Hondo intelligent, he at least had a mind for dealing and could be persuaded to take risks on questionable ideas. He’d really hoped he could convince the pirates to help him, but he hadn’t offered them the right motivation apparently. Assuming Hondo meant more to them than he apparently did.

He slipped back aboard the stolen pirate vessel and navigated his way off the planet. There was a whole armada waiting in orbit and he sighed in frustration. Of course, the emperor didn’t do anything half ass. At least it confirmed for him that for now... Sidious would content himself with throwing armies at him, instead of specialized soldiers that might actually have a chance to bring him down. Which meant one of two things; either he didn’t have the soldiers he needed to stop him or... he was saving them for later. For now, it seemed the empire raiding everywhere he’d been would make for great publicity stunts. Likely with the hope of turning the entire galaxy against him so nobody would help him. And unfortunately, it was working. 

The general public would believe the news reports without question, meaning any one of them could call him in anywhere he went. The bounty on him now, would be massive, so he’d have to be on the lookout constantly for hunters thinking he’d be an easy payday; so not even neutral worlds were safe. And if news got out of the slaughter at the pirate base, he had no doubt that would be twisted into a warning too. If fellow criminals were wary of him, who could he turn to? He highly doubted even the rebellion would give him a chance at this point. Not that he had any interest in reaching out to them. They wouldn’t help him with what he needed. Especially not if they were led by a Jedi who still upheld their ideals. But at some point, he might need to consider finding surviving force users, because with the massive armies that followed him everywhere, he might not be able to take Sidious down alone. Especially not if Sidious had wiped out half of the Jedi council before he’d stopped Windu from ending him. That was something he’d have to consider later though, for now, he needed to head back to Vanqor and rethink his next move, since the pirate den had been a dead end.

He should have just killed all the pirates and stolen everything he could. Now he was leaving empty handed with less than what he’d come with. It could still be worth tracking Hondo down, but if the emperor got wind of where he might be headed, it would make getting him that much harder. And saving one stupid pirate without a crew wouldn’t do him much good. 

He weaved in and out of the ties, zoning out since he was used to the intensity of space battles, though he wished he had his advanced tie instead of this lousy saucer. At least it was outfitted with good weapons, that helped. He’d just about located a window to jump when a transmission popped up on his dash. He was going to ignore it but then realized it hadn’t come through an imperial frequency. 

“Orko nine,” the weequay said, when he accepted the transmission. “That’s where they took Hondo.”

“The asteroid prison?” he said in surprise. Well now... that was interesting. And also, possibly the easiest place to get him out of. Not by the design no, but by the location. It was pretty remote, hidden behind several nebulas. A fleet of ships wouldn’t be able to navigate them fast enough to interrupt a prison break. “Meet you there.” The pirate nodded. 

He set the nav computer for the asteroid belt where this prison was. Hopefully, Hondo would be grateful enough for a rescue to consider his deal. He finally found a window and jumped to hyperspace, sitting back in the chair, and ignoring the way his water tank pressed into his skin. 

Breaking into a prison complex hadn’t exactly been on his to-do list when he’d headed to the pirate base. But maybe it was just what he needed to stretch his legs. If some of the pirates had survived the imperial raid and were now willing to help him, it might be worth the effort. Criminals had nothing left to lose, usually. They might be persuaded to help him in exchange for their freedom. If Hondo agreed to his deal, having the smooth-talking pirate captain on his side could make his life a lot easier. The problem was though, you couldn’t trust him. He looked out for himself and you couldn’t turn your back on him. Though, him not being held back by any codes meant threatening him would be a lot easier. 

Admittedly he was kind of enjoying this newfound freedom of not having to refrain from doing whatever he wanted. He had no master telling him no. No code dictating every decision. Not even a care about what side of the line he was on. None of it really mattered anymore. He wasn’t a Jedi, and he wasn’t a Sith. He was just an empty vessel filling only with a sense of duty to end one threat. There was nothing else to consider. Stop Sidious. All else could be justified by that end.

He couldn’t possibly dent the numbers of the empire in any of his preparations. It would stand strong long after Sidious’ demise. A small group of dead farmers and a few dead pirates would hardly make waves within the construct of the galaxy. Even a destroyed prison and a few more criminals on the loose again, wouldn’t make much difference. So really, there were no consequences he had to fear other than miss-stepping in his attempts to undermine the Sith Lord. And by now, he doubted him recruiting pirates would have been anything the emperor could have predicted, nor did he think Sidious would be able to guess what he’d hoped to accomplish by doing so.

So, things were finally looking up. If you could call a jail break on the horizon, a good thing. He shrugged. At least this would be fun.


	12. Chapter 12

The move to break Hondo out of jail went surprisingly smoothly, though Orko nine probably wouldn’t be a functioning prison again for awhile. He’d lost track of the body count; he couldn’t be bothered by that. There were more important things to worry about. But admittedly, he’d felt this surge during the jailbreak, he didn’t know if he’d call it power like Sidious claimed came with such reckless disregard for life, but it was definitely something he enjoyed. Though maybe that was the adrenaline, the feeling of freedom that accompanied every lifted gate or disappearing shield. Maybe it was like freeing himself after being imprisoned for so long.

To march in there under no orders but his own, to answer to no one for the outcome or the cost. It was... exhilarating. But with every body that hit the floor in however many pieces, there was this nagging in the back of his brain. This voice, this whisper, that told him there’d be no point in beating Sidious if he became worse than him. 

If he didn’t know better, he’d probably say it was his imaginary Ahsoka since she’d pretty much become the voice of his conscience, or maybe that residual guilt he felt manifesting to torture him once more. He’d ignored it though, for the sake of his purpose there. While Hondo himself wasn’t really that important, having his help was. Even temporarily. 

The pirate captain had been, _tickled_ , as he’d said, to think he would be rescued in such a manner. He’d only managed to roll his eyes and then naturally had been forced to fix his settings on his HUD. Though despite the pressure Hondo had put on him, he’d refused to tell him who he was or how he knew of him. In fact, he’d been convinced at first that it was either an imperial trick or that the empire was in need of privateers. 

In truth, he’d let him believe whatever he wanted about the arrangement, just to get his plans underway. And he’d hated to admit it, but they’d been unusually helpful in getting him what he needed. Though he couldn’t pay them, they benefited greatly from his strength and power. It was barely a few months before Hondo had been reinstated with nearly a full crew and an arsenal of ships and weapons and other goods they desired. 

He wished he could say he’d enjoyed his time with the pirates, but he never drank with them, and most often tuned out their music. And once a job was done, he’d return to his lonely little cave on Vanqor and continue his work. But at least the pirates had helped him track down a few specialty items he’d needed to improve his ship and gather supplies.

Though as Hondo’s crew had grown once again, he’d begun to distance himself from them. As helpful as they’d been at first, he was realizing more and more, that raucous pirates weren’t going to help him beat Sidious. If anything, they’d become more of a distraction and he didn’t like knowing he’d enabled them to cause problems with imperial security. Even if them being a distraction had been the biggest benefit to having them on his side. 

The biggest problem was, he couldn’t trust them to find or know what to look for when it came to finding equipment for his suit, and their aversion to legal currency made it difficult to use his droids to go looking too. And as the time had passed, he’d been realizing more and more, that he was going to need real help. And since it would take too long to recruit and gather an army, his only other option was a secret imperial weapons testing facility. It was a shame that some of Sidious’ plans were still years from completion. Stealing one of those to use against him would have been the greatest revenge. 

Even so, he’d been planning for awhile this raid on the weapons facility. He knew there were enough experimental weapons there that could give him an advantage. If nothing else, it would get him through to Sidious so he could finish the job himself. While the jailbreak hadn’t required the amount of force, he’d demonstrated that day, it had been a good proving ground for him, to see just how far he’d come with the various surgeries and improvements to his suit. 

And while it still didn’t work at peak efficiency, he was feeling more confident at how much he’d adapted to his current situation. Rather than meditating whenever he was in the bacta tank, he’d taken to trying to learn how to control objects easier through the force without having his extremities attached. While his metal fingers didn’t really conduct the force, they helped refine his movements with it so he could better visualize what he was trying to do. It was a slow and aggravating process. 

Lightsabers and many of the force abilities were meant to act as extensions of your body. Even though the weapon wasn’t a physical limb, it was meant to be connected with one as though it was simply another hand. But when he’d lost his right arm before the war, it had caused this hiccup between his limb and the weapon. So, every time he was trying to use the force, he could feel it going down just past his elbow and then a blank spot before it connected to his lightsaber. And that interruption made using it in fine ways, very difficult. 

Especially in the case of trying to work on his suit. Because between his limbless torso and his suit sat a huge empty space with which he couldn’t gauge how far away things were or the spatial awareness to use two tools simultaneously on the same circuit board or advanced mechanisms. More than once he’d fried circuits that he’d had to instruct his droid to fix. It had taken a lot of self-control not to throw a fit over it. Trying to blindly grope around in the force to work on things without fingers or anything physical to control was like trying to fill a tube with water. 

So, despite the hours of practice in the past few months, he’d only managed minor system improvements. So minor in fact, he couldn’t even be sure they’d made any difference at all. For all he knew, he’d messed them up more. The other factor with all of this, was it required intense concentration and the ongoing burning sensation in his eyes because besides being able to control it, he had to be able to see it. And since he could only do this work while he was in the bacta tank, it meant keeping his eyes open in the stinging gel for long periods of time. 

In fact, he was starting to worry about his vision a bit, because his eyes always hurt now, even when he hadn’t done it for a few days. There were always several black spots in the corners, and weird red shapes when he closed his eyes. He’d given up on the fine mechanical work and attempted to try things from memory, but so far, they’d been gigantic failures. Even on simple machines. 

The medical droids did not have enough programming or the right equipment to make it possible to live outside the suit, so despite everything, he was still trapped with it for now. He’d hesitated to use the pirates to get medical equipment, he couldn’t let them know he was in rough shape. Despite his shows of power, he often returned to his ship worse off wondering when he’d get himself killed trying to do things his body couldn’t do anymore. Without an actual specialty doctor or a sophisticated medical facility, he really had no way of knowing if he was reaching limits he shouldn’t be reaching. He wished he had a force healer right about now.

But nobody he knew that might have survived order 66 could heal, nor he doubted they _would_ heal him even if they _had_ survived. And he definitely couldn’t track down the one Sidious surely had. It was far too dangerous. He wasn’t even sure if Sidious had one. It was just an assumption that he must have someone. Though Sidious had clearly never given him the care he needed to properly heal or improve, so he didn’t really know what Sidious had in regard to that. 

Despite having been let into Sidious’ circle after the war, there was still so much he didn’t know. The emperor had purposely kept many things even from him, telling him only what he needed to know to do the missions he’d been tasked with and only a small glimpse of his greater plans. Everything else he’d gleaned from meetings with moffs, Tarkin or from overhearing others. And obviously the few reports he was allowed to read. Sidious had preferred to keep him isolated, rebuilding a facility on Mustafar to keep him far from everything. Alone in his hatred and misery but surrounded by spies.

There were no words to describe the pure torture he felt in that place. To be surrounded by the echos of the lives he took, to be reminded of the way the lava had burned his flesh, the hate fueled duel with his once friend. And worse yet, to be constantly reminded of Padmé’s betrayal and the actions he’d taken against her. To not be able to escape the haunting sounds of her gasping for air. And Sidious delighted in his misery. Told him all of that suffering would make him unstoppable, if he just let the darkness fester. If he let it in, if he pointed it at all those that had hurt him, he’d find power beyond imagining.

Power had never filled that hole. What power had he truly had anyways? He’d been purposely a slave, limited in every way except for what Sidious could control. There’d been no power there, only pain. The new things he’d learned as a Sith had hardly improved anything he’d already known. He understood now, the only thing that made him feel powerful was the lack of equal opposition or friendly sparring. 

With no equally powerful foes to fight, he won by default with little effort. It was an empty victory. There was no thrill to it, no unbridled excitement that came from a hard-fought battle turned in their favor. It was just a thing to be done, more bodies to the pile, more blood on his hands. And he feared in these easy victories he’d fall complacent; he’d find himself far weaker than he thought when it was time to face Sidious again. He could only train so much with no measure of his progress or skills. And he was getting agitated by the idleness and impatient for action. 

That’s why it was finally time to make the boldest move he’d done since running away. Information for the secret facility had obviously been under tight guard, so he’d be going in blind. He had only his two magnaguards and himself, against an army of security. But he was hoping the remote location and the secrecy surrounding the facility meant it wouldn’t be swarming with troops. If he played it strategically, he truly believed he could get through to get what he needed. Even by himself. 

After all, he’d dominated an entire prison complex with just a handful of pirates, how much harder could this be? It wasn’t likely a place Sidious would waste inquisitors. They had more important duties. While they were surely hunting him, they still had to hunt for other survivors, of which there could be still many. And the Empire was still fairly new, there weren’t many of them yet. And surely his disappearance had hampered the training effort. Last he checked; their main force had been a few converted Jedi. The rest had to be raised to be useful or he’d have to settle for weakened for users with limited training. So, the odds of them being stationed at every imperial post, or even nearby such remote locations were slim.

But an experimental weapons facility meant other dangers, like tactics and defenses he’d never seen before. A more sophisticated security system, possibly even more special ops troops or purge troopers. Probably war droids more advanced than the separatist droids too. So long story short, he wouldn’t be walking right in the front door like he’d done on Orko nine.

He sat back and took a deep breath, using the time before the nav computer beeped the arrival to try to meditate and prepare. He’d upgraded the scanners on his ship, meaning he’d have some warning what awaited him before pulling out of hyperspace. But he had no intention of slowing down to run a blockade. So, he was going to be jumping in as close to the planet as possible and racing past the ships hopefully before they noticed him. 

He’d done a maneuver like this once before with Master Gallia. He chuckled to himself as he remembered his promise to fly through the hallways next time. If he wasn’t on a time sensitive mission, he’d have considered seeing if that were possible just for kicks. Though he doubted this clunky smuggler ship would fit inside the corridors of an imperial cruiser. His Jedi fighter might have. It just would have required precision flying, which was exactly what he was best at.

The nav computer beeped and he sat forward. It was time to put his money where his mouth was. The scanner picked up a fleet nearby, just as he’d suspected. He started counting down from 30. When he hit one, he pulled out, veering off to the right as he rocketed underneath the middle cruiser to avoid the more active turrets on the upper levels. He was past the blockade before any kind of resistance had been staged and speeding towards the surface. 

If all went well, they’d believe that blip on their radar had been nothing more than a glitch and he’d be powered down and away from his ship before they thought to check in with ground command. He landed in the nearby swamp several clicks away, and with his two magnaguards was on the move.

While he didn’t exactly have the time to linger and be cautious, he already knew walking through the front door was impossible, so he had to take the time to scout it out. He perched atop a ledge as low as he could go without laying on his suit controls and took over control of one of the magnaguards. He drove it around the side of the building until he found other droids working to unload something and slipped it inside to pick up goods and follow them inside. Despite the fact that his droid looked nothing like the other droids, nothing noticed it because he kept it in line with the ones that were working. It never ceased to amaze him how completely unnoticed droids were to most people. They meant nothing to anyone it seemed. He felt another ache for Artoo and shook it off. He didn’t have time to think right now, he needed to focus on his objective. 

He used the droid to look around and scan his surroundings as it blended into the other worker droids. There were plenty of stormtroopers lingering around, but there was nothing to yet indicate they’d been alerted to an intrusion. He slipped his droid into another line of workers to move into another area. He wasn’t seeing the number of guards he expected for such a top-secret facility, but that didn’t by any means make him believe this would be easy. Not only were there cruisers above full of reinforcements, the minimal on the ground meant there’d be traps and other security measures he had to work his way around. 

He took the time to explore as much as he could, moving the magnaguard from assembly line to assembly line to scout the area. Eventually he passed what looked like it could be the archive or database center and immediately had the droid slice into the mainframe to bring up a map for him to see how to get to that room. He doubted there’d be much he could walk out of the factory with, but if he could get into the computer room, he could steal all the plans for the prototypes and weapons and use the pirates to get him the materials needed to build them. Before he did that though, he wanted to see some in action, so he knew what to focus on. Many projects were good in theory, but the reality made them mostly useless. 

He moved on to another area, mentally mapping out in his head as much as he could and transferring what the droid had learned to his HUD, so he had it with him when he went in. Once he felt he had enough idea of what resistance awaited him, he sat back and went over the maps in his HUD for a few minutes looking for the best way for him to go in.

There appeared to be a third-floor maintenance access hatch that didn’t seem to be heavily guarded. He instructed his magnaguard inside to make its way towards the area as discreetly as possible to meet him there. The trickiest part about this would be minimizing the number of alarms he tripped. Though based on his analysis so far, the security inside was less even than the prison so he doubted he’d have much trouble at all.

But he needed to remain acutely aware of the blockade above and the potential reinforcements. Unless this was a situation where Sidious had understaffed the facility in order to ensure its secrecy. He doubted Sidious would have suspected he’d go looking for weapons or projects that he could turn against him, assuming that he’d focus his attention on medical care and then attack him directly. And while yes, he’d done that at first, he was feeling empowered now, by the successful acquisitions with the pirates and his improving physical state. In fact, after seeing the lax security, he was feeling pretty good about his chances here. 

There were civilians here though, and he felt he should avoid killing the scientists as much as possible. Though on the same token, sparing them didn’t necessarily free them from the emperor’s employ. Then again, sparing them meant they could continue to invent weapons that could be beneficial to the empire once Sidious had been removed from office. Permanently.

And unlike the jailbreak, he wasn’t here just to test his abilities and stretch his legs. He didn’t want to setback the empire significantly enough to cause future problems. As it was, killing the number of troops he had was already unfortunate even if the numbers were plentiful. But this hit wasn’t meant to be a show of force, it was nothing more than a chance to improve his odds for his ultimate goal. So, he’d kill only if he had to and spare the rest to continue operations once he’d gotten what he needed.

He waited for a break in patrols and sprinted across the complex and scaled the wall to the upper floors. After a few acrobatics, he landed on the third-floor platform and waited a moment for his magnaguard to join him. He ordered it to watch his back and then reached into the force to open the hatch that was locked from the inside. 

After clearing the two guards nearby, he took a moment to catch his breath and look at the map again. It looked like the east hallway would be the safest bet, more security but more straightforward. He was halfway down the corridor when he heard the first alarm. Oh great. He fought his way through the troopers that converged on his location and continued on. 

This repeated several times as he moved further into the facility. Each time the alarms would draw more troops, and each time he’d dispatch them and move on. The response seemed average, but still unexpectedly muted compared to what he’d have assumed he’d encounter. Though the facility manager was now on a loudspeaker trying to convince him he wouldn’t win. He shrugged his shoulders and ignored it. They didn’t have the numbers to stop him, it was all a bluff; and he was about to call it. 

Though further in he found ray shielded rooms and automatic turrets and other somewhat basic security measures that compared not at all to facilities he’d breached throughout the clone wars. He ignored the random flashbacks to the citadel. Though the alarms in this place were definitely grating on his ears. Even with his helmet reducing the intensity of them.

It wasn’t until he made it to the computer room that he met the most opposition. But even so, it hadn’t taken all that much effort to cut them down. He felt vaguely concerned that there were no signs of reinforcements. Surely Sidious knew he was here by now? Unless they were amassing outside to cut off his escape. Or, Sidious just didn’t have the resources to defend this facility and decided to sacrifice it. If it were that simple, it meant he didn’t think much of the value of what he could find here. But he highly doubted that was his response. 

He shrugged and reached into the force, unlocking the command center door. It was eerily empty, despite the loud alarm that blared the moment he crossed the threshold. He sent his magnadroids out to scout the area and find out if there was an army waiting outside, while he bent over the computer and tried to find the information.

He downloaded everything he could about the various prototypes and weapons to his HUD, simply making a copy rather than moving the files. As he waited, he tried to read through them and look over what they had. 

He saw schematics that resembled advanced droids that were a tier or two higher than the separatist commando droids. He saw research into alternative fuel sources for cruiser turrets and lasers that made them more powerful and harder to evade. He saw designs for planet sized weapons he assumed for his needs to dominate. He shook his head. Even if they could be built, how effective could they be? Destroying whole planets? How would that benefit the emperor? Unless it was to support his move to a supreme power that overstepped the senate. All the more reason to stop him, then.

Once he’d copied the files, he left the command center and brought up the map to figure out how to get out. Safest bet was probably back the way he’d come, but they could have circled back and fortified that path. Or as it seemed, he’d already wiped out most of their forces and could just leave without opposition. Whatever civilians had been in the building had cleared out; he hadn’t run into any. Though that wasn’t terribly surprising since most people tend to take cover when blaster fire can be heard. 

He decided since there wasn’t anything physical, he’d seen that would be easy to take right now, it was better not to linger and just get out of there as fast as possible. 

He emerged outside the building, expecting reinforcements but there was nothing. How weird all of this was. Unless part of the secret testing involved things he hadn’t even seen or sensed? He felt this increasing paranoia as he headed back towards his ship.

The moment he got to the top of the ridge; he was forced to drop down as his ship exploded in front of him. He barely had a chance to register what was going on before they were ambushed on all sides. He could barely think as he fought the incoming blaster fire and battled his way through a whole army in an attempt to escape. 

He made a break back down the hill, heading back towards the factory. How had they found his ship? Powered down, it shouldn’t have been scanned unless he’d tripped something coming in. Or while he’d been wasting time inside, they’d been outside searching. 

He blinked in surprise as his HUD started spitting random numbers and letters in front of his eyes as though the coding was breaking down. He saw an imperial ship ahead of him and raced towards it, slashing his way through the remaining guards and up the ramp. He could hardly see through his malfunctioning HUD, but he managed to get it flying and was up. He set the nav computer to the nearest safe place to jump and pulled the lever before even leaving the atmosphere.

He felt this rush of unbridled anger and hatred, staring ahead at the streaking stars. He wished he could stab his lightsaber straight through the emperor right now. He felt his ears ringing from the buildup of pressure, his vision blurring more red than normal as the true reality of what had just happened hit him. Sidious may not have suspected he’d head there but as soon as he found out he was there, he turned it into a mind game. 

And he’d been feeling too good to realize it before he got played. He couldn’t go back to Vanqor now, they’d probably searched his ship before they blew it up. Good thing there’d been no other searches besides what he’d needed for this raid. Though it greatly compromised the pirates that had been helping him. 

Try as he might though, he couldn’t care anymore. All he felt was darkness right now, pumping through him like the heart pumped blood. The feeling was becoming deafening and he was ready to give into the call. He tucked away Ahsoka’s lightsaber, briefly grateful he’d taken hers instead this time. It was all he had left now. But the small bubble of light it produced couldn’t slow the evil racing through his veins. He needed release, and he would have it.

He didn’t even care anymore if this got him killed. He couldn’t contain it. He pulled out and reset the nav computer for the western reaches. He was going to enjoy this retaliation even if it was the last thing he did. 


	13. Chapter 13

He didn’t think as he slashed his way through trooper after trooper. Everything was red, bleeding, dying. There was no light, no hope, no heaven here. It was just a mindless slaughter and an all-consuming rage. Every ounce of suffering Sidious had put him through, _life_ had put him through, was released on the faceless legions in front of him. 

He couldn’t really see, most of his HUD had shut down after the fake files he’d downloaded to it at the weapons facility. Everything was way too loud and way too bright since it no longer dampened sound or dimmed the lights. But it didn’t matter, he was deep in the force, moving through the darkness and drawing on it. If he was going down, he wanted Sidious to know he’d take a whole damn fleet with him. 

But even as he wished for death, it never came. The stormtroopers didn’t hold a candle to his rage, the few inquisitors aboard had yielded in fear. He’d killed them anyways, because he didn’t care. There was no mercy there, there was just nothing. And this trance persisted from the hanger where he’d landed to the command center where he’d plugged into the computer. This time he knew they hadn’t had time to tamper with the information, he’d shown up completely unannounced and had wasted no time to begin his gauntlet.

Tarkin’s fleet was the closest he’d come to finding surviving force users, and if there was even the slimmest chance he’d survive this suicidal run, he’d train an army to take on Sidious. But to be honest, he doubted he’d even get that far. The darkness continued to pound inside his head, screaming for more blood, more sacrifice, more power, but his body was butting in.

His heart was racing out of control, his breath was coming shorter and shallower. He was feeling lightheaded, his limbs were getting heavier and he was slowing down. He kept going though, unwilling to surrender yet. Not until he took Tarkin with him. He was going to rob the Emperor of his best agent. A payback for what he’d done to him. 

The execution had been swift and emotionless, he’d hardly even felt it. He only wished it had been more satisfying to watch his head roll away from his body, to wipe that sneer off his face once and for all. 

But no matter how many he killed, there were always more. He’d lost track of where he’d been and what he’d done, he didn’t know how many were aboard or how many had come from the other cruisers to stop him. All he really knew was that he couldn’t keep this up forever and at some point, he’d die in the most stupid way imaginable, a lucky hit. 

It felt like he relived every memory of his life as he fought his way through the swarm. He felt his hatred for the hutts, remembered every time he flinched when Watto raised his hand or his voice. He felt the fear and sorrow and guilt of leaving his mother behind. Saw the faceless savages that killed her. He felt the burning resentment from every criticism Obi wan had given him and every lecture. He felt the loneliness of always feeling out of place. The mocking laughter of the other younglings, the weight of every person who’d refused to believe in him.

He felt the gaping loss of every fallen clone, friend, and every senseless death. The crushing weight of every cold reprisal and judgmental stare. He felt the fear of loss, the desperation with which he’d clung to everything he’d lost anyways. He felt the betrayal of all those he’d loved the most and for just a moment, thought this was his whole life flashing before his eyes. And it had been nothing but misery. 

He opened the door to a dark corridor, standing there for just a moment as his raspy breathing echoed through the space. He watched the troopers scramble away in fear, shooting their pitiful blasters in his direction. He sliced through one, then another. He threw one back, lifted one in the force and slashed it over his shoulder. He threw the lightsaber through the rest and moved on. 

Everything was foggy either from smoke or from the trance. He didn’t really have any purpose; he was just destroying everything in his path with no real direction. Their numbers never dwindled but he felt the exhaustion kicking in. Not a single death had satisfied his need for revenge. He’d felt nothing, like it had been a waste of time and completely pointless. 

He staggered on, his beleaguered soul, crashing through the floor. Any minute now, he’d land on his knees, the weight too much to carry anymore. But somehow, he kept going. Maybe it was time to run away again, give up the fight, move on. He drifted through another hallway, another room. Bodies fell around him, but he hardly remembered touching them. 

He tried to make excuses for each death, to say this one was for that loss or that one was for this pain. But after awhile the attempt fell silent, he was too numb to think straight. His arm was shaking from exhaustion, his muscles screaming at overuse. He suddenly realized that none of the death here would hurt Sidious at all, not even Tarkin’s. If anything, it would give him more power and he needed to stop. 

He felt his senses returning, felt the red recede some. The trance lifted. But he also felt jolted somehow, like he’d stepped into an electrical trap. There weren’t any that he could see but whatever had caused the feeling had reached straight through the darkness and ripped him out of its tumultuous ocean. He could still feel it, but as though it had been pushed aside enough for him to open his eyes again.

The last stormtrooper in the area fell and he leaned into the wall panting and exhausted. Emotion bubbled up in his chest as he looked around and really saw all the carnage he’d caused for the first time. He felt this… rising disgust, this… _something_ … that felt oddly like Ahsoka. It made no sense, where did that come from? It vibrated through his hand and up his arm as though the crystal in her lightsaber was crying out at what he’d done. He looked down and shook his head in a panic. No, it couldn’t be turning red. _No… how could he have done that?_

He heard more footsteps nearby and staggered into a small storage room feeling this sudden need to cry, to release the tension somehow. He blinked a few times, turning her lightsaber over in his hand. Maybe it had just been the red from the alarms, maybe it was just his imagination. Maybe it was the red that had been blurring his vision for awhile now. But for a moment… he could’ve sworn it looked more red than blue. He shut it off and tried to calm himself down. What was happening to him? He’d had no choice but to kill all of the troopers that had tried to stop him, but there was this burning sensation spreading through his body, as though the darkness was using it to consume him. He’d been so angry, he’d wanted nothing but revenge, but now that his senses, _and possibly sanity_ , were returning, he tried to blink away the red in his vision and justify the actions he’d taken.

He was exhausted now. There was no way he was going to get out of this. He was in over his head and this was what he deserved. It was time to accept his fate. But try as he might… he couldn’t bring himself to leave that little room as the weight of the past few years crashed through him. And with sudden clarity, he could see how every step forward did less to save him and more to destroy him. If there was any way out of this mess, maybe he needed these surviving Jedi for more than just an army against Sidious. No, that was stupid. He couldn’t go back to that. There was no path of redemption for him, there never was. He’d sealed his fate years ago and it was foolish to hope there was forgiveness or help to be found. He was becoming the monster Sidious had designed, even without being under his control anymore. _Maybe he still somehow was under his control?_

He felt suddenly sick. Angry at everything that had set him on this path and every feeling he’d ever had.

He was an idiot for coming here! What had he even been thinking? He hadn’t been, that was the problem. He’d been consumed by rage, the need for revenge, he’d let his stupid brain convince him he was powerful enough to take on an army by himself. And yeah, while sometimes it felt like he was already doing that every time the imperials converged on his location, each time he just barely got away. But here? He’d severely underestimated the number of troops that were aboard and could swarm the moment he triggered anything because he hadn’t cared at the outcome, and now that he did... he had no way out.

He’d been looking for the list of Jedi that hadn’t been confirmed kills, maybe more as a secondary objective, and any information he could find on where the empire suspected or noted potential activity. Unfortunately, the only way to find that had been aboard a cruiser. But that was just the excuse he was making for what he’d done here. Really it was just to strike a blow against Sidious that he couldn’t easily recover from. Tarkin’s fleet not only had once guarded, or imprisoned him, it was also guarding Inquisitorius; where they trained the inquisitors. It was also the database center for all the information the empire had collected on potential survivors and possible recruits. Downing his fleet would mean Sidious would practically have to start over in hunting his biggest fear, the rise of a new generation of Jedi. So, his goal, _side goal_ , besides revenge, had been to gather that information before destroying their copy of it. But unlike the prison complex and the weapons facility, this information was heavily guarded, by sheer numbers he hadn’t taken the time to comprehend. Or more accurately, hadn’t cared about in his suicidal rage. 

And now he was hiding in this stupid little room just waiting until they found him and having to face the reality of the trap he’d walked himself into. The door was unlocked, but so far, they hadn’t thought to look there. He tried to catch his breath and map out a possible escape.

He heard a noise and thinking it was another inquisitor, he spun around with the lightsaber up and ready as someone dropped into the room. His jaw dropped and he stared at her in disbelief, struggling to process what he was seeing. “Hi, I’m Ashla,” she said, putting her hands up so he’d know to turn off the lightsaber. He did. “There’s about a hundred more stormtroopers headed this way, but if we work together, I think we can get out of here. You know how to use that...?” He saw the confusion spread across her features as she finally got a good look at the hilt.

“Yes,” he rasped. He was amazed that he’d managed to make a sound because he was still dumbfounded by her sudden appearance and was starting to fear he’d completely lost it. Was her presence what he’d just felt a moment ago, the crystal vibration that had broken him out of that trance? Was this a hallucination or was she really here? And if she _was_ really here, there was so much he wanted to say to her, to tell her, to talk about. But instead, he watched her shake herself and turn her back.

“Follow me,” she ordered, disappearing out of the room before he could say any of it and he dropped his hands back to the side. He tightened his grip on her lightsaber and tried to squash the rush of emotion. He couldn’t believe it. Ahsoka was still alive, at least she seemed far more real than his random memories or imagination. Her introduction lent credence to the possibility she _was_ real, though maybe he was just really desperate. She didn’t seem to know or suspect who he really was, but something had clearly drawn her to him anyways. Enough so to risk landing on this cruiser and fighting her way through countless imperials to help him get out of here. Which was insanity, if he thought about it. Boarding an imperial vessel was risky enough, the fact that they’d both made it on here... he wasn’t sure what to think. It sounded as though she’d been looking for him, which meant she had risked getting caught and persecuted as a surviving Jedi just to find him. _What did she know?_

“What do you want with me?” he called after her, hurrying to catch up. He felt a strange burst of energy, not like he could once again go sprinting down the corridors, but like he wasn’t being weighed down so heavily. He wouldn’t go so far as to call it hope, but his spirits had definitely lifted. Even if she was just his imagination, it felt like a sign he wasn’t dead yet. Or maybe it was a sign he was already dying, and this was all in his head as he lay on the cold hard metal floor somewhere while his body gave out.

She glanced around a corner and ducked back into the shadows. He did the same. When the patrol passed, she checked again and then glanced back at him. “If we survive this, I think there’s a way we could help each other,” she said simply, and yet, he still felt this kind of buzz of curiosity that hung in the air between them. Like maybe she hadn’t cared what his identity was before coming in after him, but after seeing that he had one of her old lightsabers, she was trying to resist asking questions. So much so that she went the other direction and oversimplified her responses so she could force the urge down. 

“Why would you assume I need rescuing?” he asked, not afraid to fill the silence with questions. There was no way out of this without fighting regardless of whether they talked now or later. It was a stupid question, and if she’d been following any of what had happened aboard this cruiser, it wouldn’t be that hard for her to figure out he wasn’t on their side _and_ he needed help. He just wanted to hear more of her voice, find out where she’d been all this time, how she’d survived, what she’d been up to, and how she found him, especially here of all places.

“Intel has been talking about you for months,” she threw over her shoulder, and he just stared at the back of her head. “For an imperial, you sure kill a lot of them. And if you’re not on their side, perhaps you’d consider another side.”

His jaw dropped as the pieces of what she’d said finally clicked into place. No wonder the rebellion had become so well organized. He’d known a strong Jedi had to be behind it, but despite how desperately he’d clung to the hope she’d survived, from the moment he’d seen the crash, she’d never been considered as a possible candidate. Now it made perfect sense. 

Ahsoka was a brave and powerful leader, she had the heart and will to fight injustice on that kind of level. She had experience with military strategy and the power to ally people under one cause. And the more organized the rebellion had become, the more obvious it was being led by someone that inspired hope. That’s why they’d suspected a Jedi. 

“Maybe I just like to kill my own men,” he rasped somewhat sarcastically but he was suddenly so giddy he was struggling to contain it and _breathe._ Though he was already struggling to breathe so who really knew the cause?

She turned back and looked him up and down with her brows knitted and a frown, and it took all his will to not hug her right then. There was something about seeing her oh so familiar expression that sent his spirits cartwheeling in exuberance and relief. “Sounds efficient,” she said finally after studying him for awhile. A smile spread across his face before he could squash it. _That was his Snips, for sure._ Despite that possible confession, she didn’t seem to have any problems turning her back on him, so she clearly was convinced that he wasn’t just some evil rogue Sith and couldn’t be reasoned with or she didn’t want to let on she suspected his real identity. He wondered what kind of intel she’d heard about him. 

“So-” he didn’t get a chance to start that sentence because as soon as they went through the door, there was a whole legion of stormtroopers standing there. 

Ahsoka laughed a little nervously when they took notice. “Well, this is awkward,” she said to them. “We’ll just be going now.”

“Freeze!” 

There wasn’t much time to think as they were instantly back-to-back with their lightsabers up. He knew he should be paying attention to what was going on, but his mind had drifted to the countless times they’d ended up like this before. And how good it felt for someone to have his back again. 

“I hope you weren’t kidding about knowing how to use that,” she whispered as all hell broke loose. He didn’t have a chance to wonder if she really _did_ suspect who he was as they danced and twirled through the blaster fire just like old times. After all, she’d surely seen the path of destruction he’d carved through the ship, so her constant jesting about whether or not he knew how to use a lightsaber, felt eerily reminiscent of the times she’d poked fun at him before, as his padawan. Every so often he’d catch sight of her throwing people around or knocking them out. He watched her aim repeatedly for their weapons or to disable rather than kill and he almost shook his head.

Not in disappointment no, but because she was too good for this world. Always living her life for others, never wanting to hurt or kill unless left with no other choice. The contrast between her and the imperials struck him hard. She was nothing like them, how would she ever fit within the confines of the Empire once Sidious was removed from power? As he watched her white blades, shocking though they’d been... it made sense. She was light, she was only light. Of course, even her new lightsabers would reflect that. But with that thought, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. 

He was going to disappoint her and maybe it was better not to tell her the truth. Just as he’d believed at the beginning of this journey, he was alone now. Not even Ahsoka in all her love and compassion could forgive him for the things he’d done. Let her believe in the memory of Anakin without spoiling it for her. 

“Look out!” she said suddenly and ran up a falling trooper and flipped over him, blocking the rocket blast with the force and sending it flying another direction. The ship lurched and a ventilation duct spit out some steam. He suddenly had the strongest urge to tell her to go, to get out of here, to leave him and go on living. This ship had taken a battering and it was only a matter of time before it started breaking apart, especially if they’d pulled out the rockets. 

“Not sure there’s a way out of this for both of us,” he said when she backed up into him again as more troops entered the room. They’d cut through most of the first group, but the numbers were still endless. “You should go, save yourself. I’ll cover your escape; the emperor wants me alive.” He hoped that was still true, though some part of him was sure it was a lie.

“He has a funny way of showing it,” she snipped, and he couldn’t resist smiling again. 

He didn’t want to send her away; he didn’t want to see her go. He wanted her to stay, to catch up, to forget the trials of these past few years and remember better times. The time when it felt like they ruled the world, that nothing could truly get to them as long as they stuck together. But those days were gone and so was that feeling. There was one last thing he could do to escape this, but he didn’t want her caught in the middle of it. Suddenly her survival was more important than his and he’d risk being dragged back to Sidious just to know she could live on out there. He swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Anakin came to life inside him stronger than ever and started screaming, _save her, save her, save her! She has all of me anyways!_ It felt like his insides twisted into knots as if all his fears gripped him and wrung him out like a sponge so that every good thing that was left could escape with her.

“But I didn’t spend the last six months tracking you or risk coming here by myself just to leave empty handed,” she said a moment later, breaking into his thoughts. His mind snapped to attention as her words flooded him with warmth. She probably didn’t know who he was, but she still cared enough to stay. “Lucky for you, I’ve been in this situation before. Watch my back.” 

He started in surprise at the realization that she’d let go of her lightsabers and was controlling both of them without touching them as they spun around them in a circle. He almost forgot to pay attention to the blaster fire and he definitely forgot to brace himself as the piece of floor they were standing on dropped out beneath them. 

He only had time for one panicked thought as he fell and that was that he didn’t know if this would break his suit or parts of it. He hit the ground hard, cringing at the sound of puncturing metal. “Oof,” he gasped, feeling the back of him get suddenly wet and a sharp pain where the tank cut into his skin through the suit. Sure, there went his water. And... it probably looked like he peed himself or he was bleeding now, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, he was definitely going to have some bruises there.

“Sorry,” she said, “But we need to keep moving.” He watched her lightsabers fly past his face and then she grabbed his arm to help him up. “Why are you wet?” He saw her glance around in confusion. 

“I think the fall broke my water tank.” _As if he didn’t have enough things wrong already._

“Oh, not good.” She pulled him out of the line of fire of the troopers now peering down through the hole. “Is there any way to patch it so we don’t leave a trail for them to follow?”

“I don’t know without looking,” he muttered. 

“Well turn around.” Before he knew what was happening, she’d peeled up the back of his jacket he’d been using since he’d gotten rid of the cape a long time ago. “Kriff,” she swore to herself. “It’s too badly damaged just to patch it. I’m going to have to take it off you. But I’ll help you repair it once we get out of here.” He heard the seals pop and the weight of the tank lifted off his back. She worked on it for a few more minutes before she had to just give up and roll his jacket back down so they could keep moving. “So, your suit carries everything, huh?” 

They were running down another hallway. “Yes.”

“It’s not just for intimidation?” He glanced at her and saw her smirk.

“I imagine that was part of the original design.”

“What happened to you? Why do you have to wear it?”

“Now isn’t really the time for this.” How was he supposed to explain to her everything that had happened to his body or to him since they’d last seen each other?

“Sorry, just trying to make conversation while we run for our lives. I find it helps with the stress,” she laughed at her own joke. It reminded him of old times, when they’d joke about who had killed the most droids in order to stay level during horrific and stressful situations. He was glad she still carried that.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve been on my own for awhile now.” He was still overwhelmed by emotion and the heaviness that was slowly building again at what would come when they _could_ talk. He was happy, beyond words, to see her alive, to have her running along beside him one more time. But scared too. What if she got killed pulling this stunt to rescue him? What if he had to watch her die? Why didn’t she go when she had the chance? Why did she have to be so stubborn?

“Yeah, me too,” she said sadly. The tremor in her voice broke his heart and he almost squeezed his eyes shut forgetting to pay attention to where they were going. He resisted the urge to reach out and grab her, struggling to control his increasing need to touch her and hold her and assure himself she really was physically here, and he wasn’t just going crazy. “Well hopefully your mobile survival suit has wrist rockets or mandalorian tricks or something, because we’re probably going to need to blast through some doors.”

“It does not, but that’s a great idea for my next upgrade,” he murmured, trying to keep his breathing steady. He’d somewhat adapted to being able to do things without the suit always working properly, but he still noticed times when it would freeze up or shut down for awhile if there was too much stress put on it. Which only made him wonder how much of it actually working was tied to Sidious’ Sith magic. Or if he’d just failed to truly streamline it since he still had no way to take it completely off and still be able to work on it. He suspected the latter.

“Our partnership is already paying off,” she said, sprinting ahead to scout out the next corridor. 

“Well, we’re still alive, but you _did_ break my suit, so I’m not sure we’re even quite yet,” he smirked in his helmet even though he knew she couldn’t see it. Who was he kidding? His suit had been broken long before she showed up. He just couldn’t resist falling back into the easy banter they’d always had.

“Minor details.” She gestured for him to follow. “This hallway is clear; we just have to get to the other-”

“Hanger? You were going to say hanger, right?” He’d felt this burst of energy from the moment she’d appeared. Like suddenly he wasn’t so exhausted, so lost. She’d been there for barely a few minutes and he felt like a new person altogether. They stopped right inside the door to the huge room full of troops, even more so than they’d just left in the other bay. “I don’t have a water tank to break my fall this time.”

“So, uh... got any ideas?” she asked, looking around.

“No, but I wish I had them wrist rockets right now.”

“How do you feel about surrendering?”

“Not a chance.”

“I figured you’d say that,” she muttered. “I have an idea, keep them busy.”

“Where are you-” And she was gone, dodging, ducking and twirling under blaster bolts as she made her way to the far side of the hanger. As soon as he saw where she was going, it clicked. He rushed into the mess of stormtroopers, though unlike her, he had no qualms about killing them. He did everything he could to dance around and piss them off enough to turn most of their attention onto him. 

Halfway through the crowd he heard the metal clanging of hundreds of fuel cells falling off the wall. “I hope you like explosions!” he heard her yell over the racket. 

“Wouldn’t be a good day without one,” he yelled back. Then he ripped the blaster rifle out of a stormtrooper’s hand and pointed it at one in the middle still falling.

The sound was deafening as the fuel tank exploded, before sending fire raining down all around them onto the other ticking time bombs all over the floor. He saw her point to the ship at the far end and he nodded. The stormtroopers had scattered in all directions, only a dozen were even still paying attention to them and they were easily dispatched as fuel tank after fuel tank started exploding from the heat and pressure.

He made it to the ramp of the ship right after her and turned around to push with everything he had left so any of the tanks that had gotten too close to the shuttle were thrown back into the now fiery inferno. He felt an arm grab him and was pulled aboard. And then they were taking off and flying away. He could still see the fire even when he closed his eyes and he slumped back against the seat he’d fallen into and tried to catch his breath. He hadn’t exactly intended to blow up a cruiser today, but he should be grateful they were both alive.

“Are you always this reckless?” he asked, after the ship landed again and she came out of the cockpit. That was a dumb question, she’d been reckless from the day he’d met her all those years ago. 

“Only when it matters,” she said with a shrug. Did that mean everything mattered? “Come on, let’s get back to my ship and get out of here and then we can talk business while I fix your water tank.”

He found it kind of funny that she just assumed he’d go along with her. But maybe it was only funny because of course he’d go along with her. Where else would he go? He was on his own, just drifting from place to place, not really fitting in anywhere and then what happens? Someone he thought was dead comes back to life, rescues him and offers to fix his suit? Why would he leave now? 

Once they were underway, she stopped in front of him and looked him over. He knew what was coming, he could feel the curiosity hit breaking point. 

“Who are you? Where’d you get that lightsaber? Why do you have to wear that suit? Where’d you learn to fight like that? Why did you turn on the imperials? Why does the Emperor want you so badly?” He studied her face as the questions poured out of her like she couldn’t hold it in anymore. He felt this warmth pump through him again, looking at her, listening to her, being near her. He couldn’t believe she was still alive and yet here she was. And suddenly it really hit him how grateful he was that she was here. Either that, or the loneliness finally caught up with him. He wasn’t listening anymore.

He reached up and took her by the shoulders. “Ahsoka.” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Shut up.” He pulled her forward, awkwardly, wrapping his arms around her. She was stiff and he felt all the confusion, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to hold her. And apparently, he’d stunned her into silence. He swallowed hard as he relaxed into the feel of her there, in his arms. Even if it wasn’t a terribly satisfying hug since he still had a stupid control panel and all sorts of parts in the way. For precious few minutes though, he didn’t care as he breathed it in and let her energy spread across his skin, tingling his senses. And then finally, reluctantly, he let her go. 

She was looking up at him, her eyes as wide as they could go. Her mouth slightly agape as though she’d forgotten how to close it. Then he watched her swallow. “Who are you?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “How do you know my name?”

He sighed and sat down on the nearby bench. He shouldn’t have hugged her because now he had no choice but to tell her the truth. He could lie, he supposed, but after that show of emotion, she’d never believe him. 

He unclipped her old lightsaber from his belt and held it up in his hand. “I know they used to be green, but I really liked that we matched.” He choked up and felt a tear roll down his cheek and could do nothing to wipe it away inside his helmet. 

“Anakin?” she breathed with both disbelief and hope.

He swallowed the rush of feelings at the inflection and emotion she’d managed to squeeze into his name. “Hey Snips,” he whispered. “It’s good to see you again.”

He barely managed to look up before her arms were around him again. He pulled her as close as he could and held her tight.


	14. Chapter 14

“It all makes sense now!” She paced around in front of him.

“What does?” he asked, still coming down from the roller coaster of emotions. He didn’t want to think about where he’d be right now if it hadn’t been for her. But at the same token, it sort of felt like he was right back at the beginning. Except this time... he wasn’t alone. Though it was probably stupid to think he was back at the beginning because despite nothing working and almost dying, he was far better off than before.

“You being alive!” she said, throwing her hands up. “The holonews said you’d been killed, but it never really felt like you were gone. Then the places you were spotted! It wasn’t a path someone hellbent on trying to hide would have taken! It was based on _need_.”

“Ahsoka...”

“And then, and then in there!” She ran right over his interruption as though she hadn’t even heard him speak. “You had my lightsaber, the way you fought, that you just followed me without questioning anything! You’re alive, I can’t believe it!” 

He looked up at her sadly, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. Did he dare tell her that he didn’t feel alive? Should he bring her expectations down right away? She sounded so hopeful, like finding him fixed all her problems and he knew there was no way to live up to that. He didn’t know what all she’d heard or how much she knew, but he knew he couldn’t be whatever she was hoping for. 

She started pacing again. He just watched her in silence. She was too distracted by everything she was working out in her head and he knew from experience, it wasn’t worth trying to interrupt her. Besides, for the moment, they were safe. And... he ran his eyes down her, he was just absorbing her presence. He still couldn’t believe she was alive either. While yes, he was trying to listen to her, he also noticed his wandering attention. How long had it been since he’d last seen her? He’d lost track of time with everything going on. He couldn’t help but notice how much... _older_ she seemed. Maybe he just hadn’t given it that much thought before during their brief time together. Still caught up in the moment of seeing his padawan again. Maybe she’d seemed older then too, maybe they both had…

At some point he realized she’d kind of started muttering to herself, like she was working things out in her head. Or arguing with herself about something. It was odd, to say the least, not something he was used to seeing her do. He couldn’t really hear exactly what she was saying. Without the enhanced audio in his helmet working, his hearing had been badly damaged in the fire too. He could listen with the force, he supposed, but she’d notice that, and part of him didn’t want to close his eyes. Admittedly he was a little bit scared he’d wake up from whatever he’d just done and find out he’d completely imagined her showing up on that cruiser and saving him. 

So, he let her talk while he memorized every detail of her appearance. In some ways it was hard to tell this young woman had once been that bratty little kid dropped in his lap at the beginning of a war. In other ways, it hadn’t taken him long to know she’d grow into something really special. But even in her maturity, he could still see the innocence- _maybe that was the wrong word_ \- naivety, of a child with so much more to learn. Or he was the one that had been jaded and she was better off...

“So, what is this proposal you had for me?” he asked after awhile. She jumped a little as though she’d completely forgotten he was there. He’d give her a hard time for talking to herself, but he’d been doing it for months too. Though that thought saddened him, not because of his situation but because it was a sign of being alone for too long. She _had_ said she’d been alone awhile now too. It also made him wonder if she was so desperate for company that was why she wasn’t immediately telling him off for everything she’d surely seen or _heard_. Maybe that was exactly what she was arguing with herself about. So, he supposed he should be grateful she wasn’t throwing him out the airlock right now, and decided it was better to distract her with something else than let her decide she couldn’t forgive him.

She stopped moving around and refocused on him. Her blank look was kind of funny, but then she looked embarrassed and he felt stupid for laughing, even if it had been internally.

“My what?”

“The reason you came after me. You said if we survived there might be a way we could help each other.” He tried sitting back against the wall before remembering the pain from his fall and sucked in a breath when it made contact.

“Oh right...” she murmured, as though she’d forgotten all about that too. 

It was almost like... the reasons for coming after him were more personal than for whatever she was working for. Hearing her now, it sounded like she really hadn’t known what his true identity could be, but she’d still been drawn to him. She’d felt compelled to find him. And even if she couldn’t acknowledge that had been the reason, it had dominated her true mission. Either that or finding out he was alive changed whether or not she wanted to recruit him. He wasn’t sure.

She gave him kind of a furtive glance and then looked away. “You being alive... it changes everything.”

“It doesn’t change anything,” he sighed without thinking.

“Don’t you get it? With you on our side, we could actually stop the empire! We’d finally have a fighting chance! If you could do all... all that on your own... we could bring it down! We could free the people! Plus, you have inside knowledge! You could help us plan attacks, know what to target! The Republic could be restored!”

She sounded so excited; he could tell this conversation wasn’t going to end well. He tried to interrupt her, but she ran right over him again as though already making plans for his ‘help’. He rolled his eyes and for the first time, none of his settings changed. Which of course reminded him that he had his own problems and had no intention of joining a bunch of mis-led do-gooders that couldn’t accept the changing times or worse, didn’t understand the benefits of having the Empire.

“Ahsoka, I don’t want to fight the empire.” He moved enough to get her attention this time, feeling the need to stop this before it went too far.

“But-” she looked at him in surprise and confusion. He knew what she was thinking this time. _Why would Anakin not want to fight this? Why would the good Jedi knight he was not stand up for the people?_ He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, hating that the inevitable had already come. 

“All I’ve just been trying to do these past few months is survive. The only reason I’ve hit the targets I have is to get strong enough to stop Palpatine. After that? I’m just going to go retire to a corner of the galaxy by myself where I don’t have to run anymore. I’m not fighting another war!”

“We could help you stop him!” There she went again, that _hope_... he couldn’t deal with this. Hope was a death sentence. For him, for her, for everyone. He had nothing to hope for, no long-term future. He was on a collision course with the end of everything, maybe his destiny, and here she was, just focused on this one small strand of _something_ , rooted in a deluded dream he’d once been a hero. _As if..._ he’d never been a hero. “With the chosen one in the ranks, people would rally to the cause! With you on our side, we could finally stop the empire once and for all!”

“You don’t get it!” He stood up, bristling at the whole chosen one nonsense. He’d never asked for this, he never wanted this! If being special had meant anything at all, he wouldn’t be broken, and alone, picking up the pieces after losing everything. “I support the empire! I fought for the empire. I helped create it because I believe in what it does. After so much war and death, it brought stability, _sanity_ , back to the galaxy. Order. Structure. That’s exactly what people need. The last thing I’m going to do is destroy it! The only reason I’m trying to stop the emperor is so I can live in peace. What he built is still better than what it was.”

She stared at him in surprise, before narrowing her eyes. “If you really think that’s what the people needed, then you clearly haven’t seen what it’s done to them.” She crossed her arms. “They’ve been oppressed, enslaved, and thrown out of their own homes. Many of them killed. Their planets stripped of every resource to feed the endless hunger of the machine that consumes them.”

“Sometimes sacrifices are necessary to build something great. Weed out the weak so the rest are stronger!” he said in exasperation. So what if a few planets got turned over in the process? It was still better for the galaxy as a whole!

“That’s not how a Jedi would think,” she said stubbornly. There it was, that... inability to see him as he was. Still clinging to some image of him she had in her head. 

“I’m not a Jedi!” he said passionately, practically pounding his chest. It felt like he needed to scream it at the world. He didn’t know what he was anymore, but he wasn’t _that!_ “They were part of the problem! They let everyone down. They let _me_ down, they let _you_ down, the people, the Republic... everyone!” He was fuming now. He didn’t want to ruin her plans, and pushing her away wouldn’t help him at all, but he couldn’t be what she wanted, and she needed to accept that.

“Might I remind you, Skyguy!” she snapped. “Jedi weren’t supposed to be military leaders. They were supposed to be _peacekeepers_. And they were doing that just fine until your _friend_ started this war. So, before you go blaming them, remember where it started!” She turned on him and reached out like she was going to punch him. He regrettably flinched, not because he really expected her to, but because her movement had been so sudden, and he was far too on edge nowadays. It took him a moment to realize she was aggressively tugging at his jacket. In some ways, she was lucky he hadn’t reacted to that like it was a threat. And now that he thought about it, he wondered why. “Now turn around and take that off so I can fix your water tank.”

Despite the fact that they’d been arguing, he did what she asked. He figured it was better to just let them both cool off before they tried to talk further anyways. Why was Ahsoka different though? Why hadn’t he brought up the lightsaber, or tried to choke her or do any of the things he’d done to people in the past? He couldn’t really imagine himself doing that to her, but it still surprised him that he hadn’t. Some of that was instinct now, easy to do as a Sith. Even strongly encouraged by Sidious. And yet, it hadn’t even been a thought when she’d come at him, he’d just flinched instead. He didn’t know why that bothered him, but it did. Not because he would have rather hurt her, but because he didn’t understand why he hadn’t reacted that way with her. Was it because he just knew she wasn’t really going to hurt him? If that were the case, why did he still flinch?

He tried to take a deep breath and clear his mind. It was probably nothing worth wondering about. And itt was probably stupid to trust anyone, let alone someone that was angry, to work on his suit after how long it had taken to get it even semi-functional. Not that it was anymore, mind you. But he just knew Ahsoka had no reason to sabotage him and wouldn’t even if she did. After watching her while fighting for their lives barely hurt the people trying to kill them, why would she hurt him too? Especially after hugging him when he told her who he was? Maybe that was the reason he hadn’t responded aggressively to her sudden movement... or there was a worse reason... 

No, no matter what side they were both on, Ahsoka was probably the only person he _could_ trust in any situation. Unless of course, he gave her good reason not to trust him. He felt himself deflate a bit. Just wait until she learns about the things he’s done… at least the ones she doesn’t already seem to know about...

There was so much he wanted to know, how she survived that crash, how she got involved in the rebellion, where she’d been hiding, if anyone else was alive? But there were other things popping up too, like how’d she get white lightsabers? And... why every sad glance she gave felt like it would destroy him...?

After running her hands over the parts he’d revealed by removing his jacket, he heard her leave the room and could still hear her muttering to herself as she presumably scoured her ship looking for parts. He should probably help her, but he stayed where he was. It still felt like he’d seen a ghost. He smirked to himself at the realization that Ahsoka had a knack for saving his life. Even when she was supposed to be dead, apparently. 

His thoughts drifted back to what had happened on the cruiser, his mission had been too close. If it hadn’t of been for her, he’d have ended up right back in Sidious’ hands. He felt a buzz of warmth go through him as he remembered her saying she’d spent months trying to track him down. And yeah, maybe she hadn’t known who he was as she did so, but it still felt good to know someone had cared enough to try to find him. Especially how she’d made it sound like she couldn’t rest until she did, even if she had no clue why. 

She came back in the room and dropped all the stuff she was holding, loudly, on the floor. She didn’t apologize and he could still feel her fuming from their argument. He hadn’t wanted to argue with her, but he _did_ believe that the rebellion was more of a nuisance and was undoing what good the empire had done for the galaxy. And while he cared about Ahsoka, she had a bleeding heart. She loved everyone, so one sob story and of course she’d throw her all into righting every wrong she finds. Noble, but a waste of energy. If there was anything he’d learned since being on his own, it was that the galaxy didn’t really care what you did for them or to help them. 

The proof was in how easily most of them stopped caring and forgot about the Jedi and the clones after everything they’d done or tried to do to keep them safe and free them from the Separatists. The proof had been there during the war too, all the times they’d been face to face with ungrateful people they’d just rescued and how public opinion of them had been so low despite them constantly saving them. The truth of the matter was, nobody really cared who was in charge as long as they could go on living their lives as they’d been. Nearly every planet the empire had taken over had given up control without even a little resistance. Happy to have the safety and security it offered. And despite his personal grievances with Sidious, the majority of the galaxy approved of the Emperor and everything he did. She just didn’t know what she was talking about. 

He heard Ahsoka start to unscrew the broken pieces that had held the tank in place on his back. He closed his eyes and just breathed in her presence instead, forgetting his frustration and their disagreement. She didn’t say anything as she worked, but he could feel her focus and determination on her task. There was something about having her here, even with the tense atmosphere and uncertainty they were both in that made him really emotional. 

He just sat there in silence, listening to her work, letting the feel of her wash through him and ease the pain he’d been carrying for so long. Having her lightsaber had helped a lot but having her here now was so much better. Even if they probably wouldn’t end up going the same direction after this. There wasn’t really anything she could say or do that would change his mind about his position, and considering how stubborn she was, he doubted he could change her mind either. He didn’t want to admit how much he hated they’d be parting ways again. He was happy she was alive, but it was probably better not to stay together. Not only would it endanger her further, but they’d also spend the whole time arguing and he didn’t want to get her killed, for real this time. 

He heard her mumble something about a stubborn bolt but then a moment later inhale in excitement that she’d beaten it. He didn’t know why listening to her felt so soothing. Even the small fluctuations in mood shifted everything inside him. It was so much more real to him than pretending to talk to her. _Well, duh of course it was more real_. He felt stupid at the thought. But no, he meant it was these little things that gave people life, their quirks and personalities and facial expressions. Not just their words. So hearing even just her breathing or an occasional grunt was just as soothing as her voice. He was way worse off than he thought if that was all it took to cheer him up. 

At some point he realized he couldn’t feel her frustration anymore. That it had turned into sympathy or sorrow. That hurt. It hurt far deeper than his own suffering over his condition. He felt her hand slide across his back slowly and he teared up at the tenderness of her touch. 

“What happened to you?” she whispered, though it almost felt like she wasn’t actually asking him, rather just talking out loud to herself again. He didn’t answer, he wasn’t ready to go into all of it. He doubted she’d believe him anyways if he told her what Obi wan had done to him. Her hand stopped on the middle of his back and he felt the force open up around her. He instinctively wanted to close it all down, but he also didn’t want to close out the feeling of her. “Oh Anakin,” she murmured with so much emotion in her voice, the tears _did_ slip down his cheeks. Not that she’d be able to see it. He still had his helmet on.

She didn’t say anything else, but he instantly felt the absence when she pulled her hand away. He felt the pressure of something else against his back but not hard enough to hurt him, and heard her pick up tools presumably to attach it into place. She continued to work in silence, not saying anything else as she did so. Nor was she pushing him for an answer. Once the new tank had been installed, she tipped his head to the side so she could pull out the water tube that dangled out the back of his neck piece and over his shoulder.

He heard what must have been her clipping something together and then a strange squeaky sound of trying to push something through a small opening. Then she disappeared again for awhile and he just swallowed and dropped his head. He’d been lonely too long if just listening to her working in mostly silence made him so emotional. After so much though, it was hard to be optimistic about the outcome of their reunion. They weren’t really on the same side. And he doubted it would be long before she either found out or he told her things that would definitely make her not want to stick around. 

He didn’t really know where they were going, though he could probably go check. He hadn’t left anything behind this time, the various things he’d been collecting had all been lost at the weapons facility. He should probably just ask her to drop him off somewhere, but as long as they were in hyperspace, he couldn’t be tracked, so for now he was content to stay put with her as long as possible.

She came back in a few minutes later and he felt the weight gradually increase on his back as she filled the tank she’d installed with water. Then she seemed to inspect it to make sure nothing was leaking.

“Okay, try taking a drink,” she said finally. He nodded and shifted his mouth over to grab the small straw-like tube that stuck out inside his helmet. He was surprised by how little effort it took to get water this time. Whatever she’d done had far improved the system he and Q-nine had put together before, and even though he could feel the obvious weight of the tank, it didn’t seem so obnoxious or bulky as it had been. He thought about asking her to help fix or improve the other parts, but he didn’t want to push his luck since she’d only promised to fix his water tank, and likely only out of obligation since she’d been responsible for breaking it. She came around so she was standing in front of him and he looked up at her. “Does it work?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do,” she shrugged. But before he could say anything else, she turned and headed towards the cockpit. He watched her go in disappointment. Even if he’d just been convinced they’d do nothing but argue, he still wanted to be close to her. It surprised him she wasn’t asking more questions.

He got up and went into the refresher so he could empty his catheter and inspect the work she’d done on his suit in the mirror. From what he could see of it, it was nicely done. The tank seemed to spread out over his back but was much thinner than his previous one. So while it took up more surface area, it distributed the weight more evenly. He leaned out of the bathroom and summoned his jacket to his hand. Even though it was still slightly damp, he spun it around and put it back on, surprised to find that the tank being less bulky made it easier to move and shift comfortably with it.

He almost wanted to stay with her just because she’d instantly improved the quality of his life, but while she improved his, he was sure he’d drag her down and make hers worse. He joined her in the cockpit and saw her talking to someone on the holo.

“Prepare a corner of the medbay. When we arrive, we’re going to go straight there,” she was saying to the man he didn’t recognize.

“Of course, commander. Are guards necessary? We don’t have very many available soldiers.”

“No, no guards. This is, uh,” she seemed to hesitate. “Personal. Not for the rebellion.”

“We’ll spare what we can, Commander, but it’s not much. The cause takes all the resources we can get and then some.”

“I know, Jun, but I need to do this.”

“You’re the boss,” the man replied and saluted her. She smiled sadly and clicked off the holo. 

“I’m not sure where you’re taking me, but you should know I can be tracked when not in hyperspace,” he said, crossing his arms.

She didn’t even look at him before leaning forward and reconnecting the holocall. “Prepare the fleet to jump as soon as we dock. Setup a rendezvous. Make sure no one lingers at your current location.”

“Yes commander,” the man said before the call ended the second time.

He watched the back of her head for a few minutes before finally dropping down in the copilot seat. “So, no guards, but I’m your hostage for awhile?”

She shook her head and then looked up at him. “Guest.” She went back to studying the control panel.

“I told you, I’m not interested in joining your rebellion. So, if that’s what you’re hoping for, don’t waste-”

“This isn’t about _my_ rebellion,” she said shortly. “This is about us.”

“Us?” he said in surprise. “There’s an us?” He watched her swallow and look down like she was trying to disguise a certain reaction to his comment. 

“For now,” she whispered.


	15. Chapter 15

They sat in silence for a long time, but it was him that seemed to be bursting with questions. Every time he thought he’d ask; he’d get a glimpse of this really deep sorrow and all the words would escape him. There were obvious ways she was still the spunky padawan he’d once known, more so during the rescue than since. But then there was also this shadow, this extra _something_ , that seemed to drape around her like a cloak. It was like in some ways she’d figuratively become what he had, an empty shell. 

When he’d agreed to follow Sidious, he’d shoved every piece of Anakin he could deep into this hole, locking it away. And through grief Ahsoka had done something similar. Except, in her case, the outer half hadn’t become evil, just empty. Everything that made her up had retreated into her own hole. 

Guilt rose up his throat like bile and he quickly tried to take a drink. Though that only served to fuel the guilt more. She had no reason to care about him anymore at all, she stood for nothing he did and yet, she still fixed his water tank as promised. Something she could have easily refused to do, and he couldn’t have forced her. In fact, for the moment, he was completely helpless to fix any of it himself and she could have easily taken advantage of that. And despite his misgivings about her taking him back to the rebellion, it seemed to specifically be to get him medical care. So, despite everything, she still wanted to help him. And he felt horribly undeserving.

“Ahsoka,” he started carefully. She slowly turned to look at him, and he tried to swallow the guilt enough to speak. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” she croaked, as though her mouth was dry and cracking. He knew the feeling well; it was one tormented with emotion and the cutting blade of words you want to speak but fear.

“You don’t have to help me,” he managed finally.

“No, I don’t,” she said after a moment and looked away. He waited for her to give all the reasons she _did_ , because she was stubborn like that. But she added no further explanation of the matter.

He leaned back carefully, trying not to slump into the chair remembering the pain from earlier. It was a weird thing to realize he was suddenly dependent on someone’s help and kindness that had once been under him. Well, dependent was a strange word. Because if dropped off somewhere, he could probably find a way to survive again, this time at least he wouldn’t be going into the situation blind. But despite his resistance to help and his fear of getting her hurt or her finding out all the reasons why she _shouldn’t_ be helping him, he really didn’t want to leave right now. And he wasn’t completely sure why.

The fact that she was fully aware she didn’t have to help him and was still willing to made it feel like he was even more at her mercy and he should probably keep his mouth shut and just appreciate the limited time with her he’d get.

The silence was eating away at him though. It wasn’t comfortable like it used to be. He’d missed her and he wanted to talk but he didn’t know what to say. Changing the subject felt... wrong. And yet what else could he say of this matter? There was a gaping hole between them now. Like where once their entire friendship lived, the ground had sunk instead. Even if they couldn’t stay together, he didn’t want this to be how they left it. Not if they had a second chance after so long...

“Are you okay?” he asked finally, unsure what else to say.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied dismissively. “I just found out you’re alive. It’s the best news I’ve had in awhile.”

“But...” He shrugged, feeling stupid and turned to look out the window again. Maybe it was better not to talk, but he had so many questions for her. “How did you find me anyways?”

“I just trusted my instincts,” she murmured. That wasn’t the truth, there was more she wasn’t saying. 

“Well at least those are still good.” He cringed as soon as he said it. “Not that... never mind.” He hated this awkwardness even if he probably deserved it. They’d hugged! Surely despite the argument there was still something there between them? Or was she still moping from it? He couldn’t feel anything from her that indicated she was nursing wounds over something that fresh, so whatever was bothering her lived much deeper beneath the surface. “I never thanked you for rescuing me,” he exhaled trying to mask the weird flavor in his mouth. She turned to him and raised a brow expectantly. “So uh, thank you. I guess I got in a bit over my head there and uh... I owe you one.”

She looked him up and down, still with the deep sorrow yet somewhat cold expression and eventually nodded ever so slightly. “We’re here,” she said instead, turning back to the controls when the nav computer beeped. 

He sighed to himself and looked ahead as she pulled out of hyperspace. He didn’t get a good glimpse of the size of their fleet before she expertly docked with a large hammerhead corvette before signaling for them to jump again. So, this was why the empire hadn’t had much luck finding them? As a fleet, they were far more mobile than a base on a planet somewhere. Even with imperial patrols, an armada of ships could easily elude detection and disappear again before the big and slower battle cruisers could arrive. 

She stood up and he followed her in silence. After they slipped down a few hallways, not passing anyone, which was strange, they headed into the medbay. Sure enough, in the far corner was a surgery table, several droids and a bunch of tools and supplies laid out and ready. She gestured to the bed, closing the curtains around the area tightly. 

He sat down and looked up at her. “Are you sure about this, Ahsoka?” he wheezed, feeling suddenly tired. She turned towards him and studied him for a moment. He wasn’t sure about going under again, especially considering there’d been nothing spoken about the future once this was done. Yet at the same time, he trusted her, even with this gaping wound. He knew whatever she was hoping to accomplish by having him do this would only make his life better not worse. And after how much of a struggle things had been after leaving the Emperor’s care, he’d be stupid to ignore a chance to get decent medical care while he could.

“Don’t worry,” she said finally, sounding like she was faking bravado to reassure him. “We can spare the resources.” She looked uncomfortable, like she couldn’t wait to get away from him. He supposed he didn’t really blame her. After finding out someone you looked up to turned into this, he’d want to get away too. But he was more concerned about her seeing his face. Of revealing the true depth of his suffering. He didn’t want her sympathy, but he was more afraid of her repulsion. Or worse, that she’d think after everything he’d done, it was a just punishment. 

He looked her over, wishing they could go back to the way things were. This was a defining moment in their relationship, of that, he was suddenly sure. However she responded to what was left of him beneath this mask, would forever haunt him. Maybe haunt both of them. He finally nodded and reached up to work the latches on his helmet. 

She watched him as though she were frozen in place and couldn’t look away. And yet at the same time appeared to be fighting her own curiosity as though she despised it in that moment. To her credit, she made no sounds or even a passing look of horror when he dropped the helmet onto the bed and reached for the oxygen mask. He wasn’t sure if she’d given any reaction at all, but he guessed her lack of physical reaction had masked a strong internal one. 

_At least she wasn’t running away..._ She reached out and helped him lay back on the bed, attempting to give him a reassuring smile as the medical droid informed him the anesthesia would be kicking in any moment. He reached out and caught her hand as everything started fading. He couldn’t feel it, so maybe that had been in his head too.

\---

“Glad to see you made it back alive, Ahsoka.” He blinked trying to clear his head. Whoever had spoken sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place who it belonged to. They didn’t seem to be close to him though, what little he could see of the room appeared to be mostly empty. “How did it go?”

“I failed,” he heard Ahsoka say. He could almost picture her hang her head. “I made contact, but they weren’t interested in joining our cause.” He was struck by how impersonally she spoke of it, despite the emotion in her voice. Perhaps that was just code in the rebel circles, but it felt weird, like she was lying to whoever it was. Not about him not wanting to join them, but not telling the person the whole truth. Either about his identity or about his presence here.

“Don’t take it so hard. You know as well as I do that the empire has a stranglehold on everything. That’s why most people are too afraid to oppose it,” the voice replied.

“Yes, I know all about that. Considering how much they actively fought the empire though, I really hoped they’d see another side.”

“Some people just need the right motivation,” the voice said again.

“Perhaps you’re right,” she murmured. 

“Well at least you made it back safely. Losing you could have been a major blow to the cause.”

“Thank you.” 

He felt something in her words. Something hollow, doubtful, empty. Whoever she’d been talking to said goodbye and continued on their way. Based on what little he’d overheard, he wondered if that person even knew he was here. It had sounded like he really didn’t and Ahsoka had spoken of him as though they’d not left that ship together or were still together here. It was strange she’d be dishonest to her fellow rebels, but more strange she wouldn’t admit to having brought him back with her. Why was she hiding it? What did she want?

The door opened a few minutes later, and then she appeared around the curtain. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Who were you talking to?” he asked, still feeling kind of groggy.

“That’s not important,” she said simply. So now she was lying to him too? “The good news is, we found the tracker and we were able to remove it.” She held up a small container with a little chip inside. “It’s been permanently disabled so you’re now a free man.”

She turned her back on him and went towards something on the far table he couldn’t quite see. “What’s the bad news?”

“The bad news is, with our limited resources, there wasn’t a lot we could do to fix you up better.” She turned around again. “But the doctor droid prepared a bacta tank for you if you want to give it a try. He thinks it could help ease some of the pain and the scarring. And it looks like you’ve not had a soak in a long time. It’s a wonder you’re doing as well as you are.” She crossed her arms.

“Why are you helping me when you know I’m not going to help you?” he rasped. 

She looked down and picked at her fingernails. “I’ve been mourning you for so long. The pain of your absence has never gone away. I know I failed you by leaving the order, but you were still my master and... my best friend. I can see now that there’s more to you than I ever really knew, and I can’t judge. When the war ended, everything changed, most of us did too. Those of us that survived, we all had to pick a side, staying neutral wasn’t really an option.” She sighed and dropped her hand. “There’s things you’ve done that I can’t forgive, but I also can’t stop caring. Even if you won’t help us, you still deserve as much of a chance to be free as the rest of us and that’s what we’re fighting for.” She straightened. “Only three people on this ship know you’re here, so when you’re ready to go, we have one prepared for you to just slip away. But before you do, the third person would like to say hello.”

“Who is that?” he asked in confusion, wondering who she could mean. There wasn’t really anybody else he could think of who was alive and would still care about him. But it better not be Obi wan. 

She raised her wrist and pressed a button. A moment later he heard the door open again. He blinked in surprise as around the curtain came his old blue and white astromech. “Artoo!” he exclaimed.

“He was instrumental in fixing what we could fix for you. He’s also the one that found the tracker. I know he’s technically yours, but unfortunately, I can’t let you take him. His new owner would be... displeased.” He glanced at her when she said that, but she shifted her gaze away from him and set her hand on the droid’s domed top. “We’ve both missed you, a lot.”

Artoo beeped and whirred, telling him all his woes and concerns and he just watched the droid with this ever-increasing ache. Of course, Artoo would’ve been the one to fix him. He’d thought it ages ago if he’d just had him, his situation would’ve improved significantly. He half thought about stealing him anyways, but he had a feeling Ahsoka wouldn’t let him get away with that. 

“I’ll give you two a minute,” she murmured, and turned to go. “But don’t get any ideas, Skyguy. I’m watching you!” He smirked at her comment and sat up so he could pat the droid affectionately.

\---

She waved after him sadly and he felt the pain of leaving her. He was sorry they had to say goodbye again, but he really didn’t think there was a way to work this out. There was a small feeling of poetic justice though, to be leaving her behind after she’d left him. She of all people should know how hard it was to stay and fight for something you didn’t believe in. He raised a hand to her and then turned and headed inside the ship she’d provided for him. 

It was nicer than anything he’d had while on the run and he noticed immediately she’d filled it with supplies he’d need, spare parts and also made sure there was a more adequate med room with a bacta tank. He felt a rush of guilt that he wasn’t willing to stay and fight with her considering all she’d done for him since she’d reappeared. 

He shook it off and sat down, starting up the ship and piloting it out of the hanger. Once he set the coordinates he immediately jumped. It was time to finish what he’d been trying to do before meeting up with her. It was better to focus on the future than to think about what he was leaving behind.

After checking that everything was running smoothly and verifying there was nothing that could track this vessel, _he wouldn’t put it past her to try_ , he got up and headed into the main cabin to assess his new living situation.

He froze as the door opened, a mixture of surprise and annoyance trickled through him. There she was, sitting back on the lounge with her feet up on the table playing with a datapad. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Reading,” she said simply, gesturing to the tablet she was holding without looking up. He didn’t know why her sarcastic response riled him so much since she was always like that, but he marched over and snatched it out of her hands. “Hey, what gives?” She dropped her feet and stood up. 

After glancing over the datapad making sure she wasn’t spying on him, he dropped his hands and looked her over. “I didn’t mean what were you doing right this second, I meant what were you doing here, on this ship?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Following you, obviously.” She tipped her head to the side. “I thought that was _so_ obvious in fact, I didn’t think I needed to say it. You’re slipping, Skyguy.” She hit him on the arm, not hard, but enough to make a point. Then she grabbed the datapad from him while he was distracted and sat back down. Of course she had more life in her now that she was back to her old antics.

“Yes, but _why?_ ” He rolled his eyes, forgetting for a second that every gesture changed something in his helmet. Now he was seeing her heat signature instead. Wait a minute... had she fixed his helmet too? She’d rescued him, fixed his water tank, his helmet, got him decent care _and_ gave him a ship and he was mad she was still here. What the kriff was wrong with him?

“Because you need a keeper.”

“Ahsoka...” he trailed off in frustration and balled up his fists. “Anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are?” He wasn’t even sure why he was angry about this.

“No, never.” She looked up at him innocently. Why was he even complaining about her being here? He’d just been thinking about how much it sucked to have to leave her behind.

“Well, you are.”

“Then you’d better get used to it.” He turned around to hide his effort not to laugh because he forgot for a second, she wouldn’t be able to see his face. How could she be both infuriating and incredibly refreshing?

Once he composed himself, he turned to face her again. “What about your rebellion, won’t they miss you?”

“I’m sure _my_ rebellion will be just fine for awhile without me.” He knew she was mocking him by the way she emphasized the word.

“If you’re hoping to annoy me into helping your _cause_ , you can forget it. I’ve got my own problems. And at the first port we come to, you can see yourself out.” He turned his back to storm away. _Typical_. No wonder she’d been so quiet about her questions. Why ask then if she knew she’d get plenty of time to bug him about it later? He should’ve known she’d been up to something.

“I’m not,” she whispered right before he made it out the door of the cabin. 

He froze, surprised he’d heard her and looked back. She’d put down the datapad and was standing there sadly, reminiscent of the last time he’d seen her before everything had fallen apart. She looked small, unsure of herself, like she had a million things she wanted to say but didn’t know how or wasn’t sure she should.

He was walking back towards her before he thought better of it, not wanting to leave the distance there anymore that had haunted him since the moment he’d walked out of the hanger that day. “What is it?” he asked when she didn’t speak. 

“There was so much I wanted to say to you, so much… I thought I’d have _time_ to say. But then you were gone, just like that… And I’ve spent every day since regretting that I didn’t say it before you left.” She looked up at him and he saw the moisture form in her eyes. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder without thinking. “If I let you leave again, still without saying it, I’d never forgive myself.” 

He opened his mouth to reply, to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and that she shouldn’t look at it like that. 

“I love you.” 

For a moment everything stood still, as though her words took eternity to make their way into his brain. It took even longer than that for him to force his mouth to close. She hadn’t said it in past tense or even a mumble like she was trying to hide that she’d said it.

“And I’m sorry for leaving.” She shivered a little. “I thought I could run from my feelings, from _everything_ , but I was wrong. You were more than my master, my brother, or my best friend. So… _so_ much more. Every time I thought I’d tell you that, I’d remember that I wasn’t who you wanted, that you’d probably never thought of me the same way, so… I would shut my mouth.”

She pulled out of his grip, crossed her arms to rub herself and sat down. 

“I looked for you everywhere after the purge, but there wasn’t even a whisper you’d survived. Despite what Maul had told me, it never occurred to me to look directly at the Emperor’s closest circle. Or maybe I was just trying to protect myself. I didn’t want him to be right. I know it’s been a long time, but please tell me… please tell me _that_ helped you walk away from him.” She pointed to her old lightsaber still hooked to his belt. “I just need to know you still feel something for me.”

“I do,” he said, trying to shake the dramatic pause in his brain as everything started finally registering. “It did. When I found it, it rattled everything in me, shattering all the illusions that I’d been blindly following for so long. If it hadn’t of been for you, for it, I don’t think I would have had the courage to keep running. Ahsoka, I don’t know why you really left, but because you did, because you showed me it was possible, I followed in your footsteps. I’m just sorry it took so long for me to figure it out.”

“I’m glad,” she whispered, slumping back against the seat as though exhausted. “I’ve said what I wanted to say, you can drop me off now.”

He stared at her as he hesitated, unsure what else he should say or if this was her way of trying to get him to pry further. Ahsoka didn’t usually make him guess when there were things she felt needed to be said. He still wasn’t sure he’d completely processed everything, stunned silent by her confession of love. He’d wanted her to apologize, that’s what he’d hoped she’d called after him for before, but now that he understood it had been love on the tip of her tongue, suddenly her leaving took a totally different turn. 

He thought she’d left because of the council and their stupidity, but maybe he’d also believed she left because she hadn’t really cared as much about him as he did for her. That was what he was used to, so that’s what he’d assumed it meant. But now to know that despite being gone for a year she had feelings for him, that she’d left to protect her heart, to let him have what he wanted... it created this crack in his reality, like nothing he’d ever known was what it had seemed. Or maybe for the first time, she was splitting him and his shadow apart rather than holding them together. 

He sat down across from her. She didn’t say anything at first but then she pulled out this small round holocommunicator and set it on the table between them. She pressed a button and he saw a symbol appear above it. It rotated a few times before it clicked what it meant. His eyes shifted from it to her face where the same pattern went down the center of her forehead.

“Fulcrum,” she said finally. “That’s what I go by in the rebellion. Only a handful of people know my true identity. I work from the shadows; I pull the cells together. I organized it into a bigger deal than it was. I’m not the leader everybody thinks I am.” She paused for a moment and he thought she was trying to sell him on it again. But then she pointed to the symbol. “I wanted you to know I was alive. If you were still out there. This was my message not to them, but to you.” She folded her hands together and sat back. “I really hoped you’d see it and come find me.” She looked down and stared at her hands. “I didn’t really want to be a part of it, I just wanted to find you. Others might have suspected who I was based on the symbol, but only you would have known what the two things together meant. It was worth the risk.”

He studied her for a few minutes, wondering if he’d seen these two things together while he’d been part of the empire, would he have really known? Would he suspect it was her? And... would he have gone looking for her if he had? For the right reasons anyways? He closed his eyes trying to remember where his state of mind had been as a servant of the emperor. It was easy to believe he would have stopped at nothing to find her if he’d had good reason to believe she’d survived, but then again... the only reason he’d gone to that crash site was simply to cross her name off the hunted list without proving she was dead. 

Which meant while he’d still wanted to believe she was alive; he’d had no plans to go searching for her. That even as he hoped to see her again, he made no effort to. That once he’d taken her lightsaber from that moon, he’d stopped looking altogether. Why would he anyways? Even if he had reason to believe she’d lived, she would be the enemy now. That’s what Sidious had made him swear. So, in reality, no, he wouldn’t have gone after her unless ordered to do so because that would only guarantee her death. 

“It doesn’t matter now,” she whispered, shutting off the holo and tucking it back in her belt. “We both know the truth. Considering what side you ended up on, it’s probably just as well you never came looking for me.”

He watched her stand up and drift out of the room, as though as empty as the many ghosts that haunted him. She stopped in the doorway to what he assumed were the cabins and looked back over her shoulder. 

“Why were you looking for surviving Jedi?”

He should have known she’d either go snooping or figure out what information he’d been after on the imperial cruiser. Or she found it while working on his helmet. He suddenly didn’t want to tell her the truth. But he apparently took too long to come up with an answer because she finally just shrugged and disappeared through the door. 

The truth was, if he could convince her to fight with him, she was all he’d need to defeat the emperor. But even knowing that, she was the last person he wanted to ask for help. It was too dangerous, and he couldn’t risk losing her... again. Besides, Sidious unfortunately knew how much she mattered to him and he would use that knowledge to destroy them both. The difference was, he’d destroy her existence, and destroy his soul. Just the fear of losing Padmé had been enough reason to follow Sidious blindly. Actually losing Ahsoka would likely destroy any fight he had left. And that was the true reason he didn’t want her to stay. He was too attached. She was the only one he was still attached to. And with Sidious… with where he was going… that would seal her fate, mean certain death. Whatever happened to him didn’t matter, but her? She needed to live. This galaxy needed her; _people_ needed her. No one needed him.

He got up and headed after her. He knew what he was about to say would hurt her, but he had to say it. She was curled up on one of the bunks, her back to the door. He sighed, hating himself for this. 

“I’m sorry you wasted so much of your time looking for me, but you can’t stay.” He tried to ignore the way she flinched at his words. “What we had, what we are... it’s gone.” 

He left the room before the emotions overwhelmed him. Hopefully she wouldn’t suspect he was lying, but it was for her own good. It was the only thing he could do to protect her. This wasn’t her fight, and he very well might not survive trying to stop Sidious. It was better to break her heart now, to give her reason to go on without the hope of having him in the future. He had no future, none worth sharing. He just had one thing left to do. After that? Who knew? If he died, well that was the end of it. If he survived? He just planned to disappear to a corner of the galaxy to live the rest of his miserable days in isolation, he couldn’t bring her down with him. Not again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I might have gotten a tad bit emotional...

She sat down in the copilot seat awhile later, her face was neutral, no hints that she’d been crying or feeling anything really. She didn’t say anything, she just looked at the panel of instruments as though they were back in the middle of the war and she was his copilot again. “You’re going to need fuel soon,” she said with no emotion. “We didn’t have enough to spare.”

“I saw that,” he replied. “We’re heading to a fuel station right now.”

“Good.” He hated the silence between them, it wasn’t comfortable like it used to be. He’d just broken her heart, why would everything be normal and fine?

She continued flipping through the settings, scanning the systems and running diagnostics. And she continued to not speak. He tried to focus on what he was doing but he found himself glancing to the side repeatedly and watching her. There was nothing perceptible on the surface that indicated she felt anything about the situation, but admittedly, seeing her so blank unnerved him a bit. And it bothered him because suddenly he was wondering what didn’t he understand about what happened between them?

Despite the depth of her confession earlier, he was suddenly sure there was so much beneath the surface she hadn’t said. On the one hand, her words had been loaded with truth and heavy emotional weight, but on the other... it almost felt like she’d barely scratched the surface of her feelings. Like maybe those were the words she’d wanted to say to him back before they parted and now, she was saying them only because they should have been said, not because she still felt that way. 

He sat back and tried to study her movements without being obvious. At first glance, they seemed normal as though nothing was out of place. But the longer he watched her the more he noticed other things. Things she probably wasn’t even aware she was doing. Her expression was blank, her movements more like memory than determined action. They were almost imperceptibly slower than they used to be and the only reason he was sure of that was because he’d always been proud of how quickly she’d picked everything up and how efficient she’d been as his copilot. And even though they were currently in hyperspace and it wasn’t exactly necessary to be ready for any danger and they had time to slow the pace, it still wasn’t normal for her.

She wasn’t looking at what she was doing, not really. He noticed a few times she’d press the wrong button or almost clumsily flip two switches instead of one. As though she’d lost all sight in her eyes and was feeling around as best she could. There was something in her demeanor too. Her shoulders just a bit lower, her eyes darker. She carried the weight of someone forever lost in thought, not truly present in the moment anymore. 

He reached out and set his hand on her wrist and she jumped, further confirming his observations. She stared at it blankly for a moment before he pulled away. She didn’t look up at him, she just went back to whatever she’d been trying to do from memory. Only now that he’d startled her from her thoughts, the actions were more deliberate and her eyes not as foggy. 

He shrugged to himself not really knowing what to say or do about it right now and looked back when the nav computer beeped their arrival. His eyes widened as soon as he pulled out of hyperspace and he immediately jerked the controls to veer out of the way of the battle happening all around them. “What the kriff?” he muttered in confusion, weaving in and out of blaster fire. 

“Those are hutt ships,” she said, looking around. “Why are they fighting the empire?”

“I haven’t the foggiest,” he said, trying to reset the nav computer to get them out of there. “The empire must have overstepped into their territory.”

“Well get us out of here, or we’ll have bigger problems!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” He swerved again, barely missing flying debris from the ship that disintegrated right in front of them. “The nav computer froze, I’ll have to reset it before we can jump. Get on those guns!”

“But who am I supposed to shoot? Neither of them are the good guys!” She leapt up and ran to the gunner scope behind the seats. At least her battle readiness hadn’t been lost.

“How about you stop worrying about who the good guys are and just focus on shooting anyone that starts shooting at us?” he grumbled, weaving in between laser fire between a large hutt juggernaut and several tie fighters. There hadn’t really been anywhere else to go at that moment, but he hated announcing their presence like that. He hoped both sides just assumed it was a regular traveler headed to the fuel dock and not reinforcements for either. 

The area was a mess. There was an enormous debris field circling the partially destroyed asteroid that had once held a fuel station. There was a fleet of hutt ships and two small imperial cruisers battling over territory. When he’d set the nav computer to come here, he’d had no idea there was a battle going on, and now he was thinking he needed to pay more attention to the news. But this was hutt space, so he’d assumed it would be neutral territory. Obviously, that was no longer the case.

Ahsoka didn’t speak as he heard her circling with the scope and the repetitive pattern of laser fire. He could tell she hadn’t fired a single shot, yet which was probably wise. The longer they stayed beneath their notice, the better off they’d be. But a second later they got hailed and he tensed. He knew without answering it was from one of the cruisers and the message started playing to confirm it. 

He ignored the command to respond and frantically flipped the switches to reset the computer. Before long though, Ahsoka shouted that several ties had broken off to follow them. He weaved in and out, looking for a free space to jump, and finally the computer beeped it was ready. 

“I’m going to thread the needle, Snips! You remember the drill, right?”

“Obviously,” she replied indignantly. Then she turned around so the scope was facing forward even though the ties were behind them. “Go!”

He released the throttle and spun around, hit the accelerator and raced back at the ties. Just as they were about to collide, both ties exploded in front of them.

“Got ‘em,” she said, sounding a bit more upbeat like her old self. He smirked to himself and jumped to hyperspace, masking their escape in the explosion.

“Nice shooting, Ahsoka,” he murmured. 

“It was pretty great, I know, but it wasn’t easy with your crazy flying. Some things never change.”

“Hey,” he pursed his lips.

“At least we didn’t crash, this time.”

“No, but we still didn’t get any fuel. And now it looks like hutt space isn’t an option.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” she muttered, seemingly coming down from their moment of victory. The conversation died right there, and he watched her flip up the scope handles and drift out of the room. 

He wondered what part triggered her, for a moment it had been like old times. A move they’d done dozens of times before. But once the danger faded, so did she. Like the cloak was thrown back over her and the weight rested on her shoulders again. He wasn’t sure he would have gotten out of that mess alone with a ship of this size and maybe he’d been way too hasty in wanting to send her away. But he didn’t like knowing he’d be putting her in danger everywhere they go.

Even in the middle of that battle, the imperial cruiser that had hailed them had probably logged their activity and their ship’s signature. And while they might not know who had been aboard this ship, every trail they left gave crumbs for them to follow. Regular imperials might not know that a move like that could’ve only been done by force users, but it could easily be a clue the emperor might pick up on. At least for now, they were stuck together until they could find a safe place to land and get fuel. After that though, he didn’t know.

He searched the galaxy map looking for another place within the range of their tank to get fuel. But finally, he made the decision to pull out of hyperspace and putter along at low power until he could search for better options. There were plenty of fuel stations around but if the hutts were now fighting the empire, they would need to be much more tactical about where they went. The advantage to this conflict was they’d be distracted with each other and it might be easier to sneak around. The disadvantage was there’d be many more eyes noticing movements, bounty hunters everywhere and not even hutt worlds would be safe for them to get stuff from. He also needed some time to cross examine the information he’d stolen from Tarkin’s ship to plan out his next move.

But first... him and Ahsoka needed to talk. And while it wasn’t necessarily smart to just drift around, he’d managed to jump them down a much less busy hyperspace lane and now they were near some uninhabited moons in the far reaches of the outer rim. A place not really known for pirates or much of anything really. So, for the time being, they should be safe enough to waste a little time. 

If they now had to stick together for awhile, this gaping hole between them had to go away. Or at least... be less, whatever it was. The problem was, how would they come to any sort of understanding without giving her hope for the future? It wasn’t like he could take those words back now but maybe he could explain somehow... all he knew was that he hated this. Ahsoka... even when she hadn’t physically been there, had gotten him through everything up until this point. And now she _was_ here, and he’d stupidly ripped her heart out and now had to find a way to stitch it back in.

Satisfied the systems were running properly and they weren’t in danger of crashing anywhere soon, he left the cockpit and went looking for her. For some reason he’d expected to find her working on something, because he usually turned to tinkering to occupy his hectic thoughts. But she wasn’t anywhere he could find doing that. So maybe she’d gone to meditate somewhere, but when he opened the door to the bunk room, she was just lying on one of the beds staring up at the ceiling. The blank look was back, that lost in thought weight that kept her far away from present.

He sat down on the opposite bed and watched her for awhile, wondering if she’d acknowledge his presence or start any conversation this time. Was this a result of what he’d said to her or was there something deeper going on that he hadn’t noticed since they’d been reunited? He tried to think back to where it started. When she’d appeared on that cruiser, she’d sounded a lot more like her old self, despite not yet knowing who he was. But even then, there’d been a weight and sorrow she carried. Even when they’d been arguing, this heaviness hadn’t seemed this bad. But now that he thought about it, much of it seemed to start or at least catch up with her after his surgery. Had she seen something or heard something from the doctor droids that would have sent her spiraling into depression? Was she that turned off by his physical appearance now that she couldn’t even fake it anymore?

“Ahsoka?” he asked finally, feeling this strange kind of dread spreading through him. He didn’t truly believe that Ahsoka would stop loving people simply because they didn’t look good anymore, but he couldn’t come up with other ideas of what else it could mean. She didn’t look at him, nor did she answer him, she just kept staring blankly at the ceiling. He waited a few more minutes and then decided maybe she was so lost in thought she hadn’t heard him. 

He stood up and was about to touch her when she finally opened her mouth.

“Do you ever think about where it started?” she asked, with a thread of nostalgia weaved into the sadness. 

“I try not to,” he admitted, sitting back down. “Where it started for me isn’t something I care to remember.”

“I think about it a lot,” she murmured. “I don’t remember much of my childhood before becoming a Jedi.” She went silent again. He just sat there and waited for her to continue. “Sometimes I wonder how much different things would have been if I’d never gone with Master Plo.” Her statement sat in the air between them and suddenly he had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. 

He thought about mentioning his mother, of explaining why staying a slave wouldn’t have been any better for him. Of talking about parts of his past he’d never before told Ahsoka. But as the silence went on, he couldn’t do it. Even though he desperately wanted to distract her, he still couldn’t say the words. 

“I know things would have been very different if I hadn’t become your padawan,” she said finally. 

He swallowed the pain of that thought. While he’d been resistant to take her on, she’d been one of the best parts of his life. Not having her around would have been... hell. Well, a worse hell. Though this was starting to feel like hell too.

“I can’t help but wonder,” she started again. “What would have happened if I’d never left the order. Or if I’d been just a little bit sooner returning from Mandalore.” His throat constricted. She knew, didn’t she? She somehow found out what he’d done that day. “Maybe I’d have been a Jedi knight too by now. Maybe I’d even have a padawan of my own. That’s a funny thought, isn’t it?” She didn’t laugh and neither did he.

He tried to think of words to speak, something to say. Anything to interrupt where this was going. But nothing came to him and he sat there frozen, feeling like a fish out of water gasping for air. 

“Or I’d be dead.” The indifferent way she said it sent a spike of cold through him as though he’d just been impaled. _Oh no, oh no_. She turned her head, her eyes dark, unfeeling, empty. “If I’d been at the temple that day, would you have killed me too?”

He shook his head, fighting the waves of panic. He couldn’t face this, he wasn’t ready. Hearing it through her pain, it was too much. “No!” he finally managed a strangled sob. He didn’t know if that were the truth or not, all he knew was he couldn’t admit it if it wasn’t. 

“But you killed everyone else.”

He shook his head again, trying to squash the memories that were trickling back in. Things he’d buried deep down, things he’d been trying to hide from. He knew what he’d done, but he also didn’t feel like _he_ had done it. Like no one else had controlled his body but Anakin couldn’t accept they’d died by his hands. He’d done what he’d had to. He hadn’t thought about anything that day except what must be done. He’d pretended not to see what he was doing even as he’d done it. He didn’t realize he’d grabbed her lightsaber until it ignited in front of him. She didn’t move, she didn’t even seem concerned. 

“Don’t lie to me, Anakin,” she said. He almost couldn’t hear her over the buzzing thoughts. It felt like the darkness was creeping in again, like someone was whispering to him, someone or many things. He felt the cold spreading through his body, he felt the hatred and fear open this gaping maw as though to swallow him whole.

He tried to shake it off, he tried to fight it. “No,” he said again. “I’m not lying, I wouldn’t have killed you!” He dropped her lightsaber and it rolled away. “I couldn’t have done that,” he gasped and fell back into the wall, trying to pull himself together. He didn’t know why her accusation made everything cave in on him. He could face anyone’s, even his own and still feel like what he’d done had been justified. But now the thought of her standing in front of him as he’d stormed the temple, the idea of raising his lightsaber against her too... it was something he couldn’t fathom. Something that made him feel sick inside and out. Something he couldn’t even be sure wouldn’t have happened even as he denied it.

“It’s weird to think how close I was,” she continued as though she had no idea the storm swirling around inside him. “That within an hour, I would have been right there in the middle of it.” She paused again, her words stabbing him repeatedly in the heart. “I should be dead too.” 

“No! You wouldn’t be dead. I wouldn’t have killed you,” he cried, tears streaming down his face.

“If I’d witnessed that, I’d have begged you to kill me.” He started rocking back and forth. Part of him wanted to pick up the lightsaber and slash it through this ghost, the one that haunted him the most. But some small mercy kept him still. Something broke the anger enough to remind him this ghost was real; this vision could bleed. To do that would prove everything he’d just denied.

She didn’t say anything else for awhile, either enjoying or not realizing what she’d set off in him. For a moment it felt like the whole world was shaking, like a small tremor would bring it all crashing down. He was both panicking but also frozen in place, as the sides of his vision seemed to cave in on him. 

“Did you see the graves?” she asked finally, a jarring thought that broke the grip of fear.

“What-?” he mumbled in surprise, trying to shove the darkness back away to refocus on her.

Without getting up, she summoned her old lightsaber to her hand and held it up. “When you found this,” she murmured. “I buried them. Dug every grave by hand.” She dropped the lightsaber again, it seemed to roll off her fingers in slow motion. “I think I buried a piece of myself and a piece of you with every one that day.”

He wasn’t sure he completely followed what she was getting at, but his mind wandered back to the crash site. The way it had felt to look at that and know he’d caused it, the realization that her last moments, or what he’d thought were her last moments, had been filled with terror and betrayal. The clench in his gut as he’d picked up her lightsaber and held it in his hand. Similar to the absence and loss of his mother dying in his arms. And now to know, that not only had she survived that ordeal, she’d still stuck around to bury the people that had betrayed her. Her friends, and herself. And him. 

“It was your way to mourn me...” he murmured as the words finally sparked something. “And your past.” 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. 

“Ahsoka-”

“I don’t want excuses, Anakin. I don’t want an apology either. I don’t even think I want to know why. I think I know...”

“Then what _do_ you want?” His voice cracked.

“I don’t know, but I know that killing Palpatine won’t stop this or fix this or free you.”

“But-”

She sat up and looked him over, her eyes less blank but still full of endless layers of sorrow. “He’s not just a leader, he’s an idea. Everything he built exists not because of his scheming plans but because enough people _believed_ in them. And in him.” She waved her hand to the side and his eyes followed it without thinking. “You want to be free of him, but his death won’t grant that. Because you’re still tethered to him in your mind. Whatever he told you to get you to join him, you _believed_ in it. You might think you were buying only into one promise that he’s since failed to deliver, but instead, you were buying into it all. So, unless you’re willing to fight all of it, you’ll never be free of him.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Was this all a ruse just to sell me on your rebellion again?” he demanded. “Putting me through all of that just to manipulate me into fighting for you?”

She stood up, her eyes piercing straight through his mask and into his soul. “I don’t manipulate people,” she said simply. “And this,” she gestured around them, “has nothing to do with anything except you, and me.” He thought she was going to start pacing again. “Every day since the purge I’ve asked myself, ‘what if I’d told you how I felt? What if I never left? What if I’d been there for you? Would it have changed anything at all?’”

“Yes-”

“But now after all this time, I found you again. I see what you did, I see the choices you made, the path you were on long before you met me. And now I can’t help but think, maybe I did nothing more than delay the inevitable. And even in that realization, my heart still screams, ‘no you could’ve fixed it! No, if you’d just been there, he’d have stayed! He’d still be alive, he’d still be light, you could have delayed it forever!’” She looked at him again. “But the truth doesn’t carry that hope, only weight. The truth says, ‘open your eyes, naive little girl! Your love couldn’t have saved him, because _your_ love wasn’t what he wanted.’” She picked up her old lightsaber and dropped it back into his hands. “The only thing that could have saved you, was yourself. This is what you chose with your fear. Is it everything you imagined?” 


	17. Chapter 17

“You don’t understand anything!” he said angrily, grabbing her wrist before she could dramatically leave the room. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of having the last word. And while he felt sorry for what happened between them, she couldn’t even begin to comprehend how he ended up here. 

He would not take the blame for things that weren’t his fault, even if he knew he’d made bad choices, he still believed in why he did it. What had been so wrong about trying to end the war? About trying to save Padmé? Even if the cost was high? The empire was still better. Structure and firm leadership was still the right direction for the galaxy. So no, maybe things hadn’t played out exactly like he’d hoped, maybe not even a little like he’d hoped, but he still believed he’d done the right thing. 

“You know nothing about what happened! You weren’t there! You left me, you abandoned me, and now you think you can sit here and try to make me feel sorry for you!”

She looked down at her wrist that he was still holding and then looked up at his face. He didn’t let her go. It was her turn to listen. 

“I did what I had to do. The Jedi let their pacifist beliefs get in the way of ending the war. In every effort to save a handful of people, they let thousands more suffer. Every time they refused to pursue or stop Dooku, Ventress, Maul or Grievous just because a few innocent civilians were in danger, they allowed those monsters to go on to kill millions more! Sometimes you have to sacrifice a few to end the spree. They cared more about a few ‘innocents’ than the bigger picture! They let millions suffer while obeying a senate full of self-serving politicians.”

He finally released her wrist so he could gesture with his words. He was too wound up to keep still. 

“If they’d taken decisive action at any point within the war, it never would have gone on as long as it did.”

She made a sound like she was going to interrupt, and he raised his hand to her. She fell silent again.

“Don’t you think that the role of a peacekeeper should mean that it is your duty to return the peace as quickly as possible by any means necessary? What good are the Jedi if they allow that conflict to go on forever because they won’t overstep their beliefs in order to actually protect the people and the galaxy as a whole?” he ranted, trying to get out all of his frustration about everything revolving the stupidity and hypocrisy of the Jedi. 

He didn’t really expect her to understand but he still needed to say it. He’d been helping the galaxy! Cleaning up the mess they'd refused to. Hadn’t that been his job as the chosen one? If that even was a thing? It was because of him the war ended at all! 

She just watched him, not blank like she’d been before, not even in surprise. Her eyes just followed him around while he ranted as though she were simply letting him get it out of his system before coming back with all the reasons he was wrong.

“The chancellor offered me a way I could save the galaxy, through his actions, we were able to end the war. Sith or not, isn’t that exactly what should have been done? It had already gone on so long, the cost so high!” He wasn’t sure why, but the more he said, and the longer she stayed silent, the more he wavered in his stance. Not because he believed he was wrong, but he realized partway through his argument that he’d started sounding a little bit desperate. But he wasn’t sure if he was desperate to get someone to see his point of view or desperate for other reasons. And it felt a little bit too much like his last encounter with Obi wan who had completely refused to see his side. 

Ahsoka crossed her arms. “I agree with you,” she whispered. All thoughts in his brain derailed as he stared at her in surprise. “About the Jedi.” She came back over and sat down on her bunk. “We were supposed to be peacekeepers, but no one ever really explained what that meant. How do you keep the peace? Especially if you do nothing except stay within the temple unless called to action by specific needs of the senate? And how do you truly act as peacekeepers if you work only for one side? The separatists had legitimate grievances with the way the republic was handling the situations, but the senate made it illegal for anyone, including Jedi to talk to them. How can we be true peacekeepers if we’re not allowed to hear both sides? How can we be fair or just, if we’re not allowed to act as a neutral entity?”

He sat down opposite of her and looked her over. Suddenly he didn’t really care if it was his turn to talk, he wanted to hear what she had to say about this. No one else had ever agreed with him about the Jedi beliefs. At least not within the order, maybe he didn’t understand as much as he thought about why she left. He could hear her confusion, questions that even after this long, she’d never found answers to. 

“But going one step further, how are we supposed to keep the peace without fighting? The masters always taught we should raise our weapons only in defense of others, but most of my life we’ve been in a war where that just wasn’t possible. Our abilities are clearly designed or rather honed to allow us to fight, so much of our religion is centered around the search for and creation of our weapon as though we are rewarded by the force with it. For a code that dictates peace, the Jedi are anything but peaceful.” She looked up at him searchingly, as though she sincerely hoped he had answers for her dilemma. He really wished he did. “Where then, do we draw the line? If we are chosen to wield this power, why do we squander it by sitting in the temple and studying philosophy? All throughout our galactic history, whole worlds suffer from conflicts between force users. The whole galaxy just got swept into a war between a Sith and the Jedi order. There is nothing peaceful about that.”

She rubbed her arms and looked down at the floor.

“The Jedi order did not deserve to be executed in such a way, but I think... I think things needed to change. When I left, I was forced to face the true perception of the Jedi. Regular people, whose lives had been torn apart by us. Not by the Sith, by the _Jedi!_ And what did we do for those people? We gave them some saying that meant nothing to them and went on with our lives as though none of that had hardly been life shattering to anyone,” she sighed. “Yet years later, they were still struggling to survive that loss that we’d long forgotten. The war, it should have opened our eyes to the hypocrisy we were living, but instead it swept us up into this political storm of bad decisions. And now... there’s very little hope we could try again. There are few survivors, I’m not even sure how many. The force is an empty void, no light, no hope. Only darkness. The galaxy is still run by a Sith Lord who we couldn’t beat even when there were thousands of us. So, what do we do now? What choice do we have but to fight, even if we no longer know what we’re fighting for? To lay down, to give up... feels like a death sentence not just for us, but for everyone. The Jedi might not have done much right, but they were supposed to be a symbol of hope and of light. Without that, what is left? All I’ve seen is misery. You call it order, but most see only chains. A dark tunnel with no light at the end.”

He brought his hands up and rubbed them together, mulling over her words. “Bringing back the order would be pointless if it’s just the same as it always was,” he murmured. “And to be honest, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. I think force users need a place to be trained but maybe more like an academy than a cult you commit your life to.”

She made a strange sound, and he glanced her way. She immediately looked down as though she were embarrassed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. He furrowed his brows, but she didn’t elaborate. 

He sighed and sat back. He still felt this tingling anger from before, but this conversation had taken a turn and now he was more exhausted than angry. In the silence, the words started sinking in like he was finally hearing them. He didn’t want to think about the Jedi anymore because he had no answers for her. He’d known what he’d done was extreme, but he wasn’t sure it had ever occurred to him how difficult it would be for them to recover. Or even whether or not they should recover. All throughout the war, there’d been times that people had seemed grateful that the Jedi had appeared, as though the gods had descended to save them, proving that people saw them as a symbol of something good. He could remember his own ideas of what a Jedi was based on all the stories he’d heard from spacers as a child on Tatooine. 

But the reality he’d discovered had been quite different. Perhaps they’d only been viewed as god-like because few people ever saw them, so stories and imagination had done the marketing for them. So, by forcing the Jedi to become part of the war, what Sidious did was show the public that special powers couldn’t save them and as the time wore on, people lost faith in the order they’d once looked up to. Just as he had lost faith in what they were supposed to stand for and Ahsoka had lost faith in their beliefs.

Everything he’d once believed about the Jedi had been proven wrong over the course of the war, and that had perhaps been the ultimate betrayal. When what you’ve dedicated your life to, let’s you down. He glanced back over at Ahsoka and felt this ache spreading through him. He’d felt betrayed when she left but now, he was started to see that she was the one that had been betrayed. And in all his selfish needs, he’d never considered what that must have been like for her until they’d turned on him too. Which reminded him that Ahsoka had experienced more than just the Jedi betrayal too. He didn’t want to bring up bad memories, but he had to know.

“You buried the clones even after they betrayed you,” he said finally, changing the subject. “Why?” She’d sounded so dead inside when she’d mentioned the graves but considering what that experience must have been like to her, he couldn’t imagine how she would waste her time burying people that had tried to kill her. The moment the purge hit, she became a fugitive, but she still risked her life to perform the burials and he wanted to understand why. It moved him on an unexpected level to know that had been important to her. So, few people had ever truly cared about the clones, and many of the surviving Jedi he’d found had been full of hatred and anger at them for what had happened.

She scooted backwards on her own bed and picked at her fingernails. “Rex said something... right before he raised his blasters at me. Something about Fives. He was apologizing to him, like he was trying to fight it. At first, I didn’t have time to think about what he said, I just had to run. But then I found a droid that helped me unlock a report he’d filed about what happened to Fives. Something about chips in their heads, that they didn’t have a choice in what they were doing.”

She fell silent again, another tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn’t bother brushing it away. 

“Once I learned that, I couldn’t kill them. But in the process of trying to get away, the ship got badly damaged. I think, I think Maul did something to the hyperdrive or the reactor. The cruiser started heading straight towards the moon and there was nothing we could do to correct the course.” She swallowed hard and he watched the shadows that flicked through her eyes as she relived that day. “They tried to kill me, but... they didn’t know what they were doing, they weren’t in control. I couldn’t condemn them for that. They were still my friends; they were still good soldiers. They were just following orders even if those orders were wrong. Weren’t we all doing that, really? It didn’t seem right to just leave them there, they deserved to be buried properly.”

“I’m sorry, Ahsoka,” he rasped. He meant it too. “I knew about the chips but... when Fives told us, he sounded unhinged, he... was hysterical. Ranting about some conspiracy. And then, they... executed him, before we could get to the bottom of his claims. The Kaminoans, they denied them. Said the chips were just supposed to turn off certain behaviors. They pointed to his actions as proof of what happens when they are turned off or removed. The council believed them and that was the end of it.” He sighed. “It never sat well with Rex, or me either for that matter. I wasn’t convinced the Kaminoans were telling the truth, but you know how well the council listened. Finally, I told Rex to do what he needed to and he filed a complaint against them. Not that it mattered, it changed nothing.”

“It _did_ matter though,” she said, and he looked up at her. “If it hadn’t of been for that report, I don’t think I would have gotten away.” She sat forward and leaned over and gripped his hand. She looked hesitant a moment and then seemed to swallow her indecision, as though she were debating revealing information to him. He didn’t really blame her, why should she trust him after what he’d done? But it also hurt to know she didn’t anymore. “After I learned about the chips, I managed to cut Rex off from the rest of the clones. I took him to the medbay, I found the chip. Once it was removed, he was acting perfectly normal again. No longer under its control. He helped me, Anakin. Despite what he’d been ordered to do. If it hadn’t of been for him, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Did Rex.., did he...?” He couldn’t say the words, he didn’t know why. But there was something about knowing his captain had saved Ahsoka, that filled him with all sorts of emotions. Loyal to the end, watching over her even when he couldn’t. How many things had aligned to keep her alive in spite of his own stupidity? 

“Rex is alive,” she whispered.

He felt this kind of strangled release of air, as though he’d been holding his breath despite the regulated apparatus in his suit. 

“Unfortunately, he was the only one I could save. The others, they wouldn’t listen. And there was no way to get the chips out of them one by one. I hate that I couldn’t save them.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ahsoka. You can’t keep beating yourself up for it. You have to let go of that guilt,” he said softly.

She looked back at him, her eyes piercing again. “If we see Rex again, I’d recommend not telling him what happened at the temple,” she breathed. “I don’t think he could forgive you for that. Leading his brothers without their control into battle against people they’d never choose to kill.” She pulled away, and once again he was left feeling this cold trickling through him from her absence and accusation. “I can’t believe you knew about the chips and could still do that.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to scream and shout and rant. But he looked at the sorrow in her eyes, and it killed it all right there. She knew he’d done these things and she was still here with him. And despite the accusations, she kept bringing to light the divide between who he was and what he’d done.

He dropped his head down, the helmet making a weird clunking noise when it made contact with his metal hands, even through the gloves. He almost missed the ability to rub his face. To feel something again, something physical. 

“I don’t know what happened,” he admitted weakly, he wasn’t sure why he had this sudden urge to try to explain it to her. “I know but I don’t. Like it’s buried in there, but I can’t face it. Sometimes it feels like there’s just missing time, like it’s surreal. Like I know I did something there, but I don’t remember what it was. And yet, I _do_ remember, and it doesn’t feel like me.” He let out an aggravated sigh. “I’m not making any sense.” What a stupid attempt to explain it! There were no excuses for what he did! At the time he believed in what he was doing, now he wasn’t even sure of that anymore.

She didn’t say anything for so long he almost thought she gave up on him and left the room. But when he finally looked up, she was sitting back against the wall, one leg up, her chin resting on her knee. She seemed to be staring at him, but her eyes were unfocused again, like she was lost in thought. 

“When I left that moon,” she whispered, her voice sounded far away too. “It felt like I was leaving myself behind. I felt that once before too. When I left the order. I was starting over, it made sense to be something else, _someone_ else. I went by a different name, I tried to hide what I was, I pretended I knew nothing about what happened and that it had hardly disturbed my life. For months this went on, until I realized, I was starting to believe it. But when I left the order, I kept my name and hid my past. These two sisters, they didn’t like the Jedi, some tragic accident involving one killed their parents. So, I pretended I wasn’t one, I pretended I was something else entirely. I made up lies for anything they asked me. Things that were vague representations of the truth but weren’t the whole truth. When they found out, they told me I acted too much like what Jedi were supposed to be.”

She paused for a moment and he watched her, waiting for her to continue. She’d always been a great storyteller, but hearing these things now, they kept him on the edge of his seat. Like he needed to know, he _needed_ to hear it. Despite the pain, there was an honesty to the things she said. Hearing of her experiences sent him back to the times they’d sat face to face every evening talking about the day and the missions. Talking about life and philosophy and questioning things and trying to understand. Despite how little she knew of his past, she’d been someone he’d learned to easily talk to. Well, she _was_ easy to talk to. About most things. Which was probably why she’d been the one he’d summoned in his head when he was the most lonely. He’d never had a relationship like that with his master, Ahsoka had been the only one that had ever cared to listen. But he’d enjoyed listening to her just as much. Because usually he’d found surprising wisdom in those conversations, perspectives he’d never considered before. And they’d often led him to feeling more certain about things he rarely felt certain about.

“I guess my point, is that we can tell ourselves anything in order to move forward, but we can’t outrun our past, or who we are,” she continued. “Maybe I left the order, but I was still a Jedi to the core. I didn’t even know how deeply ingrained that was in me.” She looked up at him, her eyes refocusing. “Palpatine may have convinced you of something to get you to join him, maybe even used your own convictions against you, but inside there, you’re still Anakin. I can feel the conflict in you. I can feel the genuine response to my pain even when you think I don’t understand or even that yours is worse. I can feel your hurt over what happened to the clones even when you know you did them wrong. I can feel your ache for the Jedi and what you did, even when you’re convinced you did what you had to. The war, it tore us from ourselves. As it went on, we all lost sight of what we really stood for and desperately grabbed for anything that made sense. That’s why there aren’t many survivors left. We can’t be what we aren’t. We can’t stand by and watch people suffer even at the cost of our own lives. Some of us are Jedi to the core. Even if there’s problems with our beliefs, we believed in what we were supposed to be and stand for.”

She hesitated again, looking away and biting her lip.

“But you weren’t like us. You never were. You came from a different life, at an age where you could remember it. You’ve had that conflict in you since the beginning. At your core, you are good. You were good in the face of slavery, good as a Jedi and still good now. But that conflict, it tore you apart worse than us. Because the Jedi ideas and beliefs didn’t mesh with your experiences. I don’t know a lot about your past, but I could hear it crying out in your words against them. The order failed you too, and everything you believed. That turmoil slowly built up until somebody gave you an outlet.”

“So then, what am I now?” he asked, feeling tears well in his eyes. “I can’t go back; I can’t be that person again. These scars are deeper than my skin.” He had no idea why he was looking to her for answers, but he was sure Ahsoka had them. Or maybe he was desperate for something to cling to, some way to not feel so lost. She could know the horrible things he’d done, but still believe there was something good in him. He didn’t know if that were true, but some part of him wanted to believe it.

“I don’t know,” she whispered sadly. “I don’t think I can tell you that.” She swallowed. “There’s things you’ve done that I can’t ignore; I don’t even think I can forgive you for them. But... I can’t ignore the trauma that led you down this path either. I can’t say none of it contributed to the choices you made. So I guess, you have to face yourself. You have to come to terms with what you did and how you ended up here. We all make mistakes but if we don’t learn from them, what’s the point? Maybe no one can undo what happened. I can’t go back, I can’t stay instead when I obviously left, and I will feel guilt over that forever. That in protecting myself, my feelings, I added to the pain that led you here. But I also can’t change it now, I can only go from here. At least we have another chance, maybe we can try again. Or maybe we will continue on our own paths and this is just a temporary crossing.”

“I don’t want it to be,” he blurted out without thinking. “I know what I said before, but... I have to protect you. He knows who you are, what if he uses you against me? What if I can’t stop him because he hurts you?”

“I’m not your padawan anymore, Anakin. You don’t get to decide what danger I’m allowed to be in. I’m in danger everywhere I go now, but I’ve made my choice, it’s time for you to make yours.”

She picked up the datapad he hadn’t noticed and tossed it to him. He looked down and saw the wanted notice for both of them.

“I think I’m worth more than 20 million credits, I mean, come on,” she blew air out the side of her mouth. He looked up at her trying to figure out if she was joking. “I risked being discovered alive to find you. Lost my ‘dead’ status to board an imperial cruiser to rescue you. Now the whole galaxy knows. Whether you’re willing to fight with the rebellion or not, you’ll have to fling me out the airlock if you want to get rid of me now.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. This changed everything. The emperor knew they were together again, dropping her off anywhere wouldn’t protect her at all. And he had a sneaking suspicion, that the stakes just got a hell of a lot higher. Side by side, Ahsoka and him had been a formidable force during the war, and he had no doubt Sidious knew that. If he’d had trouble fighting back before, it would be nearly impossible to do it alone now. Any hope the emperor would prefer him captured alive and returned to his service was gone now. They were both playing for keeps. The death match had begun. 

“Will your rebellion still help you now that they’ve seen your association with me?”

“If I ask,” she replied simply. “They don’t know who you really are, and they knew I was going after you.”

“But would they be willing to help me take down Palpatine and not the empire as a whole?”

“That, I don’t know,” she murmured. “But they might be open to ideas on how to reorganize it if they have good reason to believe with the proper system it was better than restoring the republic.”

He chewed on his lip for a moment, debating. He still wasn’t ready to commit to helping the rebellion, but it was good to know they might have backup at some point if they needed it. At least he knew Ahsoka staying with him doubled his chances at beating Sidious, though he was still afraid for her safety even if he wasn’t supposed to be. Some things you can’t just stop feeling, even apparently if you want to.

“Bringing down Palpatine will be very dangerous, are you sure about this?” he asked finally.

“Only if you don’t plan on selling me out for 20 million credits,” she smirked.

“Now that you mention it, I could use the money...”

“Hey!” She smacked him on the knee. “I don’t care if you were a Sith, I won’t hesitate to fight you.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” he muttered.

“It is for me.”


	18. Chapter 18

He’d been staring at the galaxy map for so long his back was cramping while listening to the news, but he was getting increasingly agitated. They were on the far edge of Hutt space, so all the fuel stations within range, would be possibly engrossed in a battle. The news had reported a crackdown on gangsters, pirates, and the like, sending the Empire in to invade Hutt cartel territory. He wasn’t exactly sure what Sidious was playing at by starting a war with the Hutts, it seemed way too early in the creation of this entity to invest that many resources on another war. But he had a hunch this move was two-fold; to flush him and Ahsoka out, and possibly other survivors that had been counting on the anonymity on neutral planets. But also, to potentially take over the Hutt slave trade, in order to obtain more workers.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tensed. That was the one part of the Empire that he tried not to think about. Though Sidious insisted it was both necessary and not the same terrible conditions he’d grown up in. He knew in his gut that wasn’t true, neither of those things, but he too, had ended up another slave. What could he do about it other than stop Sidious directly and put the empire under better leadership?

But maybe he was just grasping at straws now, having to finally face the things he’d been denying. Ahsoka said he had to face himself, but he didn’t want to. As awful as some of it was, it hadn’t been by his design and trying to undo all of it without destroying the leadership first, would be pointless. 

He sighed in frustration and shut off the map. He decided to go find Ahsoka and see if she had any better ideas. Without fuel, they were pretty much stranded here. They had enough for maybe a four hour jump if they were lucky. But right now, that didn’t get them much of anywhere outside potential battles.

He stopped in the doorway to the cargo hold. She was working through her exercises in the middle. She didn’t seem to notice him, so he just hung back and studied her form. She was just as focused as she’d always been, still her hardworking and determined self. Her moves still practiced and fresh, so any thoughts that she’d not kept up her training, went out the window.

He leaned back and crossed his arms. This young woman in front of him had battled some of the worst of the enemies throughout the clone wars and won. She’d even captured Maul, a feat not even Obi wan had succeeded in the second time. She’d survived a cruiser full of clones with orders to kill her while a rampant Sith had been on the loose. On top of that, she’d survived this long under the radar, and fought her way through a whole cruiser of stormtroopers to get to him. 

He felt this swell of pride. She’d more than earned her status as a survivor, even if all her trials had been hard on her mentally. That’s what she’d always been. Strong and brave, fast and fierce. But the difference between her and most people with power, was she had compassion, empathy, love. How different his view of her was now? How little he’d appreciated what he’d been given at the beginning of the war. He’d seen only a burden, a new responsibility that would drag him down. And then for reasons he still wasn’t completely sure of, he’d agreed to take her on. Despite his frustration with the council, giving him Ahsoka might have been the best thing they’d ever done for him. At least until they’d thrown her out.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and took a deep rattling breath. But if she hadn’t of left that day, he might have killed her too. That blind stupidity that had led him down this path. And that... would have been a far worse outcome. One he didn’t want to think about and still couldn’t imagine and yet, knew that was probably what would have happened. And for some reason, that was far more distressing to him than the knowledge of what else he’d done that day. Maybe some part of him was still convinced the Jedi deserved their fate, but Ahsoka... she was better than them, and even though she’d hurt him by leaving, she didn’t deserve it. She wasn’t connected to those same Jedi in the same way even if she claimed she was a Jedi to the core. 

He let out an aggravated sigh. He didn’t understand why she was different. She’d walked the same path as the others he’d killed without mercy, but he didn’t see her as like them. He saw her as more like himself, more of an outsider to the order. Someone that the order had failed both while she’d been a part of it and when they’d given her reason to walk away from it. For someone equally as brainwashed by the others, she was the only one in it capable of hearing sense. Of seeing a different point of view. Of being able to disagree and walk away than continue following their hypocrisy. He hated that she’d left, but he also admired that she did. It was a conflicting mess of emotions and now after everything that happened, he was leaning more towards being grateful she’d left than anger that she had. 

But then there was still that nagging thought that maybe if she’d stayed, maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so bad. Maybe he’d have had someone to listen to reason with, to help him. And then he remembered her confession of love and knew, yeah, she’d have helped him even though it hurt her deeply. Or maybe she was right, she couldn’t have helped him because he didn’t see her properly then. A tear slipped down his cheek and he blinked it away before looking back at her.

She was still moving through her forms, and even though she appeared to not have noticed him over there, he had no doubt she was still aware of his presence and the constant up and downs in his moods and thoughts. He had to admire her focus because his instability couldn’t be making it easy on her to do so.

He shook away the thoughts and just watched her as he’d done many times as her master before. Her movements were fluid, practiced and perfect. Her forms still as honed as they’d always been. His eyes slid down her. Her footwork was impeccable as usual. She never did anything halfway. When she set her mind to it, she would do it until she could do it perfectly. Not once, but many times. And he was certain much of that determination had come with some idea that she had to either earn her place by the chosen one’s side or prove that she could keep up with him. He almost laughed to himself, she more than kept up with him, sometimes she was way ahead of him. All the natural ability in the world paled in comparison to someone with constant discipline. He was jealous of her in that way. She’d more than earned her skills, he’d just been handed them, unearned. 

His mind wandered a bit, the longer he watched her. She was more muscular now, or they were more obvious now that they were exposed. Her sleeveless top was loose enough to show teasing skin in certain movements, her shorts fit well to her curves and didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. She’d grown up a lot in the few years he’d known her. Though he’d never really looked at her and thought of her as a child, there’d been ways in the beginning she had the innocence and inexperience of one. That had changed quickly in the war though, forced to grow up way too fast. But that was also the fault of the order. No Jedi ever really got to be a child. From the moment they’re brought in, they’re force-fed doctrine and information that there is little time for play and fun and childish games.

Even so though, just like Yoda was hundreds of years old, Ahsoka was of a species that matured faster than humans. While she didn’t know a lot about her home planet, she’d told him of rituals and rites of passage that determined their status and adulthood. The first, she’d performed shortly before becoming his padawan; defeating a beast on Shili large enough to have the sizable teeth that had decorated her head like a crown. A few short years later, and she was an adult according to her kind. Though compared to humans that was often unrecognized because it was sooner than their acknowledged adulthood. Though despite these discrepancies, within the order, they were either learners or adults. Childhood meant nothing to the Jedi. He’d had more free time to play games as a slave than he’d ever gotten as a Jedi.

So perhaps in some ways, he’d welcomed having Ahsoka with him because for the first time since leaving his mother, he’d gotten to feel like there was play and fun even if it was within war zones. At least some small moments of that before the weight of responsibility would once again be dumped on their shoulders.

Ahsoka was far from a learner now though, even if the order was dead, she would be a master. If it was trials that determined status, she’d had more than what was fair, surviving impossible odds while never wavering in the light. And while he still burned in the indignation of their unwillingness to grant him that same rank just because his padawan had left due to their stupidity, Ahsoka had at least earned it. Maybe he never had.

He watched her awhile longer, feeling warmer the longer he admired the view. His mind drifted back to their training sessions and how intense they could get sometimes. But it started drifting beyond that too, to the times when they’d collapse on the floor side by side from exhaustion. When they’d bow to each other in respect. When he’d squeeze her shoulder and feel that pride and admiration for how far she’d come. Those moments of respite from the terribleness of everything else. Where in the come down from the workout, they just breathed in that life and peace together, in sync. As their hearts slowed and their minds settled. 

He’d had something special with Ahsoka that he’d never really paid attention to, a bond more tangible and far deeper than the one with Obi wan. His master had always been about rules, and proper procedures and doing everything by the letter of the code. But with Ahsoka, it had been more casual, more as equals than of one with power controlling everything. Because of their friendship and trust, there’d been no pretense, there’d been an open line of communication to voice concerns and to talk and just feel comfortable with each other. Maybe it had been improper by Jedi standards, but looking back, it was something he valued the most.

He had the sudden urge to touch her, even though it would hardly satisfy the need. The suit kept a barrier between him and the world, his mind kept a greater one. But he envied her exercise and decided, tired as he was, he wanted some too. He hated the way he was limited now, slower and clunkier. He hated everything that held him back from what he’d once been able to do. And he still felt residual hatred at Obi wan for handicapping him in such a manner. But he was curious to see how he’d fair against Ahsoka in this condition. 

She stopped moving when he planted himself in front of her, though her eyes were closed, she’d obviously sensed his movements. He ignited her old lightsaber and brandished it as a signal to her that he wished to spar. There wasn’t a lot of room in the cargo hold, but there was enough to make a good show of it.

She opened her eyes and looked up and he brought his hands together and bowed. She raised a brow at him but then did the same. He brought the lightsaber up and to the side, stepping into his modified defensive form that he’d had to adapt some from before. He watched her eyes narrow as she spun her lightsabers in her hands, ending in a mixed grip and bending her knees so she was lower to the ground. 

It never ceased to amaze him how small she could seem and yet, by power and confidence, appear larger than life. She was small but had the ability to spring to life in a moment’s notice as though pouncing on prey. In fact, he suddenly realized he would be at an immediate disadvantage. She was so much faster than he could be now, and she was an expert in evasion. Add her predatory instincts and disciplined training into the mix and he was about to have one hell of a fight on his hands. At least, if he fought with honor and not with the dirty tricks of a Sith.

Just as he’d imagined, she sprung forward like a spring uncoiling and launched herself at him, spinning mid-air to gain momentum. He blocked her strike, but she spun away, recovered and came back again from a different angle in the same amount of time it took him to barely get turned around. The only advantage he had by being more stationary, was that it forced his opponents to expend more energy in comparison. Though he knew from experience, Ahsoka had far more stamina than most because of how hard she trained and pushed herself. So, waiting her out wasn’t exactly an option as it could mean the fight would go on for a long time. 

She danced around him for awhile, looking for a way in through his defenses. He was able to mostly keep her at bay at first, until she started alternating between high and low strikes. He couldn’t dodge the low ones as easily as he used to because his damn mechanical legs didn’t bend in a very dynamic way. Never having the chance to improve them because he’d always been stuck in his suit, or in the bacta tank whenever they were off. While his arms were heavy, at least he still had his real elbows to be able to bend naturally, rather than with a mechanical contraption. 

Ahsoka naturally noticed that weakness and played lower, forcing him to stagger repeatedly in order to block her strikes. Finally, she flipped herself off a large crate and he miscalculated her trajectory, thinking she was going to spin overtop like she usually did, and instead her feet hit him squarely in the chest, barely missing the control panel on either side, and he was slammed back into the wall and slid to the ground. 

He grimaced in response to the pressure against his back again and looked up to see her with a lightsaber next to his neck. “We need to get you back in shape,” she murmured with a smirk. “Your lower defense is weak.”

“Just because you’re not my padawan anymore, doesn’t mean you’re now the master,” he grumbled, but allowed her to help him back to his feet. “Also, you might have forgotten, I just had surgery a few hours ago.”

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” she replied, putting her lightsabers down and crossing her arms. “Checking to see if I would still be helpful?”

“No, I already knew you would be. I saw you fight the stormtroopers. But maybe I was checking to see if _I’d_ still be helpful and apparently not.”

“I told you I was worth more than 20 million credits,” she blew air out the side of her mouth.

“I can’t believe how much that bothers you.” He tried to stretch out a bit and rub his back. He was definitely going to have bruises there now. He probably already did, not that he’d ever be able to see them.

“Hey, I’ve survived this long, don’t you think there should be a bigger prize for taking me down?”

He studied her face for a moment. Her words were in jest, but he could tell they were covering something else. Like maybe she was focusing on that to dispel the fear of this unknown path they were now walking. He decided to let the subject drop for now since they had more pressing matters to attend to and he’d already gotten distracted thinking about old times.

“So apparently the empire has declared war against the Hutts,” he said. “Meaning that we’re going to run into trouble wherever we try to get fuel.”

She took a drink of the water pack she had sitting nearby and stretched out her shoulders, still pacing around a bit before sitting down to stretch her legs. “So, the emperor thinks disrupting neutral territories will help find survivors? Or he has ulterior motives for starting a war with gangsters.” 

“That’s my guess, yeah. Can’t say I’m sorry to see the Hutts taken down but it definitely complicates our mission. I can’t find any fuel stations we can reach that won’t be in the middle of a war zone now.”

She made a face at his comment but didn’t say anything. Once she finished stretching, she got back up and looked him over. “Well, we didn’t have enough fuel with us to fill the tank, but we could potentially order a delivery. The problem with that, is it could compromise us both. And we’d be stuck here for awhile until they can spare someone to come. With battles nearby, we might be noticed before then.”

He started pacing in annoyance, he half thought about calling up Hondo again, but regardless of how well their business transactions had gone before, the new prices on their heads would change the deal. The pirates would definitely attempt a way to ransom them for the reward money or sell out their position the moment they got the info. That would be far more valuable to them than whatever they could pay them for a tank of fuel. And that was the one thing you could be certain about when dealing with pirates, they’d always work for the highest bidder. He still didn’t have much money to barter with, and highly doubted Ahsoka did either. Which made their lives more valuable than their pockets.

“If only I had more of those battle droids!” he muttered angrily, heading back towards the cockpit with her behind him.

“Battle droids?” she said in surprise. “Like from the war?”

“Yeah. They’re stupid and not as good as the clones, but they were a useful distraction before.”

She froze and he glanced back at her. “You... you were behind the attack on Naboo? You sent them there?”

“And what if I did?” he asked in annoyance.

“Anakin, they killed thousands of lives that day. Turned Theed into ground zero.”

“So what? Most of the casualties were imperial, what does it matter?”

“So what? That’s all you have to say about that many deaths? For what? How did it benefit you?” she persisted.

“We don’t have time for this!” He didn’t want to go into another argument, not after they’d started leveling out. But she wouldn’t let it rest.

She stamped her foot and put her hands on her hips. “Make time!” she demanded. “I have everything against the empire, but to just... unleash those monstrosities again... in a populated city that isn’t already in a battle, for what? Why? How could you do that? What would Padmé think?”

“Don’t you dare say that name!” He got in her face. She stared at him; her eyes wide. But despite how close he’d gotten or how angrily he’d yelled that, she hadn’t even flinched. It had come out without thinking, an involuntary response to the unexpected trigger. Maybe he was worse off than he thought, or maybe... maybe she just didn’t get it. The rush of anger and darkness had even taken him by surprise.

“She was my friend too,” she whispered, sounding hurt. “And I’ve mourned her just as much as the rest of them.”

“She wasn’t my friend; she was my wife, and I don’t want to hear her name!” he ranted before he could fully comprehend everything he’d just admitted. Somehow her pulling that information out of him made him angrier and he laid into her. So many years of suffering, injustice, loneliness, anger, hatred. “She’s dead. They’re all dead! I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save anyone! Who cares if thousands of people died? Nothing matters anymore except stopping Sidious! Caring is a waste of time!” He couldn’t stop, it just poured out until it felt like he’d built himself a pool to drown in. 

Ahsoka didn’t move, she didn’t speak, she didn’t comfort him, but she also didn’t run away or even stand down. She just stood there and took it as though he were yelling at a statue instead of a person. Finally, he exhausted himself and had to stop to take a breath.

“Revenge doesn’t bring them back. Losing that compassion doesn’t honor them, nor does it bring us healing.” She spoke softly, not angrily, not with judgement, but simply, with power. “They all loved you... _so_ much. And this is what you’ve chosen to do with that legacy.” Neither of them moved. For as small as she was in comparison to him, she held her ground, not with intention to fight like before, but with the authority of someone that had lived the same pain and was trying to teach a lesson.

“I have no other choice,” he said. The anger still buzzed, but his voice had dropped. “I’m the only one that can stop him and being weak won’t do it.” There’d been a plea in it, helplessness, uncertainty. Like for the first time he needed her to understand this was a suicide mission. The last ‘good’ thing he could do. Well, ‘good’ was relative now... but still, why was he wavering under his own padawan?

“There’s always a choice,” she replied, the same soft voice that whispered a power you’d never know she had just by looking at her. It was weird their faces were so close together and yet neither of them pulled away. He was frozen and she was rooted. And there was something about that thought he’d have to ponder later. “You’ve suffered so much, more than most. But making other people suffer because of it? That won’t fill that hole inside you. It won’t fix anything.”

It felt like they stood there for eternity before one of them moved. And he was ashamed to admit it was him. Why? Why had her words cracked everything in him? How had she broken through? Why did he know she was right despite every experience he’d dwelled on telling him otherwise? How could she know what this was like?

He blinked and looked back at her face and he knew. She was bringing the two parts back together again. She could do it because she’d lived it too. Her losses had been different but had hurt her just as deeply as those he’d lost. She was him, but better. She was the embodiment of all that he’d ever wanted to be. Where he’d fallen, she’d risen. Where he’d run, she’d stood her ground. Where he’d hated, she’d loved. And where he’d been selfish, she’d been selfless.

He reached up and unlatched his helmet, dropping the protective plate, the top half, the bottom half and the neck guard. And before he could think better of it, he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her hard. Despite how dangerous it was for him to expose his airways to potential collapse, he’d needed to touch someone, feel _something_ other than this endless burning hatred inside his soul.

He expected her to pull away, to push him back, to tell him no, to reject him. Force knew after all that he’d done and confessed to doing, he deserved to be cast aside even by her. Or more accurately, _especially_ by her. But she’d responded with need, with desire, with love. 

She pulled herself towards him, she lifted herself as much as she could to meet him. She pressed back with an equal amount of pressure, and in a matter of minutes, so much was communicated between them that words could never say. He gasped for air after awhile and she finally pulled away. Deftly re-securing his neck piece, the two-part helmet and the protective plate back into place. He’d almost cried out, begged her not to put it back on. He didn’t want to see her through it anymore, he didn’t want to hear the raspy dramatic breaths. He didn’t want to breathe this air. He only wanted _her_ air, the kind that would save his soul more than his body. But he kept his mouth shut.

She leaned her face down on his shoulder, bringing her hand up to the side of his helmet as if to touch his cheek like it was still exposed. She didn’t say anything for a long time and then he felt the force of her patting the helmet softly before saying, “we... still have a lot to figure out.” Then she straightened and walked out of the room.


End file.
